Heaven's Ultimatum
by Yuzernaime
Summary: Iris Strife doesn't believe in fate, but she cannot ignore her ties to the past. 200 years after Meteorfall, she abandoned her family's time-honored training to live in the the squalor of Neo Midgar. But when an ancient enemy threatens Gaia, and her mother is kidnapped by a One Winged Angel-worshiping cult, she embarks on a perilous journey to save both. AU.
1. Welcome Back, President

(Author's Note: Obligatory first chapter note! Whelp, I've decided to take a stab at fan-fiction again, yay me. Expect a lot of AU from this story, but I will be tying in a lot of elements from the game and a few references to other games/movies, however, you can expect all references to gravitate mostly to the game, since I am the most familiar with it. If you notice anything GLARING missing or wrong about the canon plot or characters, please let me know, otherwise, I'm not going to sweat the small stuff. FFVII's plot barely makes sense to me anyway, and I've been playing the game for years, lol.

I don't own anything associated with FFVII or affiliated products, and intend to make zero profit from this. It is solely for my entertainment and enjoyment. All credit goes to Square Enix and the makers of the Final Fantasy franchise.

This first chapter was intended as a prelude, but it ended up being much longer than I wanted, so sorry about any confusion as to why our protagonist doesn't appear until Chapter 2, heh. Oh and I am listening to a TON of Legend of Dragoon music while writing this, so don't be surprised if you spot a few Easter Eggs or similarities. This was originally going to be a crossover fic, but I opted to stay within one universe. Ratings may change later depending on the intensity of the story.

Hope you enjoy! Feel free to R&R.)

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><p>Heaven's Ultimatum<p>

Chapter 1: Welcome Back, President

**One year after Dirge of Cerberus:**

Through the scope of her sniper rifle, Calleigh Rider spotted her target. A man in his mid-twenties, wearing his usual long white overcoat, his platinum blonde hair parted down the side, sat with his arms folded and head bowed slightly. Though she was nearly half a mile away, the rifle's computer-powered scope, which acted as an enhanced viewfinder, zoomed so close she could have been standing toe-to-toe with him. She focused in on his cold blue eyes. For a few seconds she gazed into them, wondering what secrets were locked away behind those frigid irises.

She was grateful for this intimate opportunity, since she would never get to ask him to his face how he, and consequently Shinra Inc., could continue to exploit the planet, it's resources, and it's people, even after it had nearly brought about the end of days. Meteor's shards were still aflame in the sky. Mako reactors had been shut down, but the spent fuel rods, still pulsing with poisonous energy, would have to be kept cool, or else they would melt and leak dangerous radiation into the surrounding environment, often with human settlements nearby. And that was the tip of the iceberg. The farther down one went, the more corruption was exposed. And if he had his way, he was going to bring it all back…

Needless to say, it took all her willpower to avoid pulling the trigger then and there. She had to wait for the opportune moment. The president sat in a hidden area to the side of a stage that had been constructed in the middle of the town square, where a massive crowd (she guessed at least two thousand) had gathered to hear him speak. More would be watching from the TVs at the community and recreation centers throughout the city. Floating above the stage was a panoramic plasma screen the size of a three story building. A broadcast this large hadn't occurred since the medal awarding ceremony a year ago, during which Cloud and the other members of AVALANCHE were given special medallions, honoring them for the work they did saving the planet. Now it was Rufus's time to announce his return.

_Let him sing his swan song_, she thought. _When he gets to the end of his speech, our video will intercept Shinra and the WRO's promotional video, and then the people will know the truth._

The WRO, or World Regenesis Organization, while its intentions were good, was really just another arm of Shinra. Its funding, after all, came from Rufus. Oh, Calleigh had wanted to be like everyone else and have faith when she heard of the WRO's efforts to bring the planet back to a healthy state, its main purpose being to find an alternate energy source. But, like everything else Shinra touched, the WRO would fall into place and aid the conglomerate in taking more from the planet. That was Shinra's nature. The only person standing in the way of that was Barrett Wallace, whom Calleigh knew had felt the brunt of Shinra's machinations personally. She hoped he would be watching today.

A black blur obscured her view. The scope zoomed out. A bodyguard had blocked off her target. She waited patiently for him to move. He was bald, had several earrings in one ear, a wireless communicator in the other, and wore a black suit. That was the one they called Rude. One of the Turks, who lately had been dogging President Rufus's side even more than usual. Instinct told her that they suspected the president's life was in danger.

_Well, they're right. But it won't be for long_, she thought darkly. Intelligence had Reno, Elena, and Tseng clocked at other locations on the street, but they were due to rendezvous at the new Shinra Headquarters (yet to be revealed to the public) in—she checked the time on her watch—exactly forty-five minutes, after the president's speech to the public. It was going to be a speech to remember, the papers said, and would mainly focus on the new partnership forged between Shinra Inc. and the WRO. And, surprise, surprise, President Rufus would graciously reveal his contributions to the WRO and, no doubt, transform then and there into symbol of change, winning over the forgiveness and admiration of the thousands who watched. The very thought of it made her stomach curl into a knot.

_Deceptive snake_, she thought. _You cannot justify a century of crimes against humanity with donations and a public apology. _She winced and flexed her left arm, the one afflicted with stigma. Every time her hatred for Rufus and Shinra swelled, her arm burned and twitched, and all she could think about was the trigger.

_No! Stick with the plan. Wait until the end and do as Jared told you_.

Minutes ticked by. Fifteen minutes passed, more time than Calleigh would have liked. She was alone, up on the roof of a nondescript building near Edge City's newly constructed clock tower, and up here in the quiet, watching people flood the town square, memories began to creep up on her. The faces of the dead pressed in, reaching out from unmarked graves, pleading for restitution. Their screams resounded inside of her, and she could only silence them through this, the act of revenge she was about to exact. As soon as that damned Turk got out of her way. The report she had killed for told her the Turk guard would be standing to Rufus's right. Rude was on his left. Directly in her way. She couldn't risk a shot like that. Rufus would surely run for cover, and the game would be over.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Edge City," a middle-aged man, standing before the stage podium and lit up by photographers, spoke into the eight microphones in front of him, his voice booming throughout the city. "In a few minutes, we will have our speaker emerge to deliver his announcement. As your new mayor, I am confident you will show him respect, as he risks much to appear before you. Please, hear him out, and let him finish what he has to say. I think you will all be pleasantly surprised. Thank you."

The man, whom Calleigh identified as Mayor Julian, bowed quickly and swept away from the podium. He was tall, silver-haired, and wore a simple white collared shirt, with suspenders and a pair of gray trousers. She didn't think much of him, but someone had to fill in the position, and Mayor Julian was a hardworking man who genuinely cared about the people, and spent a lot of time among them. Or so she had read. Calleigh didn't spend much time with anyone outside of her small group of mutants, as afflicted with Mako poisoning as she was. And they, like her, had once been members of SOLDIER, and subjected to the terrible experimentations of Shinra's science division.

And…damn it all, Rude still hadn't moved. His body twitched every now and then, and he shifted on his feet often.

_Either he had too much coffee this morning, or someone ratted us out_, Calleigh thought.

Years of training and work as an assassin and spy told her she was correct. But she didn't want to believe it. There was no logic in attributing a man's nervous or bored movements and a simple miscalculation as a failure. But when you spent a year and a half meticulously planning a single assignment…

With luck, Rude would change his position toward the end of Rufus's speech. Which reminded her—Calleigh checked the time and switched her vision to a pair of tiny black binoculars.

President Rufus got up from the side of the stage, emerged from behind the screen that had protected him, and approached the podium. He was flanked the entire time by Rude, who made sure to maintain a specific angle, always blocking Calleigh's shot. She could see Rufus on the plasma screen above, however. There was a slight rigidity to Rufus's normally arrogant walk, a remnant of his injuries after surviving the collapse of the original Shinra tower. Despite all of Calleigh and her people's research, they could not uncover how exactly he had survived.

He hadn't even reached the podium, and the public's reaction was mixed. Through the podium microphones, out of the speakers on either side of the plasma screen, cries of disbelief and outrage roared. Calleigh felt a kinship with those who chose to speak out. The guards surrounding the stage, mostly volunteers, since there was no longer an official army or police, held up their hands with fingers splayed, the Edge City symbol for peace.

Gradually, the crowd fell into an uneasy silence. President Rufus's face, humbled, bowed, pale, and sporting blonde stubble on the chin, appeared on the plasma screen. The stigma on her arm burned like never before, and she bit down on her lip until it bled.

"People of Edge City," Rufus began, and his voice, which Calleigh hadn't heard for at least a decade, sent chills down her spine, "For those of you who do not recognize me, my name is Rufus Shinra. I am the former president of Shinra Incorporated."

More hisses and shouts of protest from the crowd, with reprimands from the guards. Calleigh wondered if they would actually have to use the pellet rifles and tear gas they were equipped with. Probably not. Meteorfall had taken a lot out of the people. But the human herd mentality was still there. If enough people sparked, there could be a reaction…

A voice crackled through the small communicator in Calleigh's ear.

"Quickly. Before he speaks again," said a voice, not higher than a rasp.

"Jared," Calleigh breathed. She forced her hands to stay still and took a moment to compose herself. "W-what are your orders? This wasn't supposed to happen!"

"Calm down. We are aware of the problem. Efforts are underway to get the Turk to change position. We anticipate you will have a clear shot in approximately five minutes."

"But what about the video?" Calleigh hissed, never taking her eyes off Rude. "We won't have time to show it."

"Calleigh…" Jared began, then dropped his professional voice for one filled with sadness and affection. "My love, please, we don't have much time. Take the shot."

She blinked away tears and forced her hands, which were still upon the rifle, not the shake. "All we worked for. Was that all for nothing? What is the point if the people don't know?" she asked. "Without the evidence presented before them…we will continue to be monsters to them."

"We don't have a choice now," Jared said sorrowfully. "Just remember your promise."

She wiped her eyes on the cloak that covered her shoulder, the one with the old Shinra tag on it that read "Experiment 4216."

"I will remember," she said.

"Calleigh…if-"

But Jared's voice was cut off by the president's.

Rufus continued, "There is no question in anyone's mind that my company, and the company run by my father before me, was responsible for many violations. The greatest of which was the exploitation of the planet for resources, for cheap and easily manufactured Mako energy, without consideration for the planet's health or that of its people, its land, or its creatures. Shinra polluted Gaia, and failed to live up to its promise to protect and serve the people while providing them with the means to live an easier lifestyle. That was the Shinra everyone knew. The Shinra I am now ashamed to say I was a part of."

He leaned closer to the podium, gazing out into the crowd. A minute ticked by on Calleigh's watch. She listened to Rufus but her scope was back on Rude, who continued to stand in her way. Icy rage coursed through her veins.

_Move, you bastard! _She was so tempted to shoot him…shoot him, and shoot again, and hope she got Rufus. Luckily for Rude her promise to Jared was stronger than her hatred for Rufus. But not by much.

"But ladies and gentlemen, what did the Metorfall crisis show us? Seemingly irreversible situations suddenly turn around. The hopeless becomes the hopeful. What was once soiled has been replenished. We can thank the efforts of the WRO for helping restore electricity and running water to the city. Thanks to them, we have a comfortable way of life here in Edge, but I know it is not without its hardships. Not when so many of us were used to living in excess, myself included."

"We all know food is growing scarce. The lands are changing from fertile to desert, the WRO's scientists have reported this find. The people are disorganized across all of the continents, bands of stragglers drift from ruin to ruin, not knowing where to go or who to turn to. Many roads and towns need rebuilding. Bridges must be reconstructed. No one likes to encroach on the land, not after what we've been through, but the reality is that if we do not branch out and rebuild the old transportation routes, expanding the amount of arable land, food will be harder and harder to come by, as will supplies. I know you are all making a valiant effort and doing your part. And believe me, I have done mine."

One minute left.

_Jared, don't fail me. Give me a clear shot…_

Calleigh's jaw set in grim determination. She felt the gun as an extension of her arm, and prepared to bring it down on him with all her wrath.

"For you see, it was I who funded the WRO in the first place."

Rufus paused for emphasis, to allow the public to react. Instead of the jeers and cries of shock he had been expecting, however, he was met with steely silence. Thousands of people suddenly ceasing to make a sound had a chastising effect on a man, even one as refined as Rufus. He fell short of words, and Rude, who held his hand up to his communicator, nodded and took a step back.

Rufus, focused on his audience, continued, "I…funded the WRO to try and make amends for the horrible crimes committed by Shinra Inc. while under my presidency and my father's. It is my wish to see the WRO flourish, but without proper organization and management, the WRO cannot operate to its full capacity. Which is why I have chosen t-, Rude, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

The rifle fired, and President Rufus fell. Rude went down with him. Calleigh brought the binoculars up, her heart pounding in her ears. The crowd hummed as waves of murmurs and gasps ran through it.

Calleigh waited frantically for a sign, but the President's body was hidden by Rude's, who had tackled him, and the podium, and now guards were surrounding them as well, forming a protective wall. Too much time was ticking by, her escape window was growing smaller by the second.

"Shit!" Calleigh stood up, blood rushing back into her legs. She heard footsteps on the roof behind her. She was no longer alone. Perhaps it was Jared. She wished with all her heart it was, but she knew better. Regardless of who was there, she continued to watch the stage and wait for confirmation of success or failure.

"Step away from the gun, Calleigh," someone ordered, a voice she recognized.

"You…" she muttered.

A gruffer, older man's voice that Calleigh didn't recognize burbled out of a transmitter someone wore behind her. "MOTHER OF GOD! THE MAN WASN'T EVEN ON FIVE MINUTES AND SOME CRAZY SHIT'S TRIED TO KILL HIM. CLOUD, RUFUS SURVIVED THE ATTACK. I REPEAT, RUFUS HAS SURVIVED. NO CASUALTIES REPORTED. I'M HAVIN' HIM TAKEN UP IN THE HIGHWIND FOR PROTECTION. OVER."

Calleigh laughed bitterly and turned around. Her red hair waved as a breeze wafted across the roof. The dark blue of her modified SOLDIER garments turned black as she was silhouetted against the sun. Her Mako-infused, neon teal eyes met eyes of the exact same color.

Cloud Strife and Tifa Lockhart stood on the rooftop with her. Along with the Turk, Reno, who leaned against a wall and glared at her, tapping his striking stick against the bricks. Calleigh had no ill-will for Cloud or Tifa, but her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of them alongside the Turk, whom she hated. Her heart filled with sadness—they were fooled by Rufus's act as well. It was the only reason they'd be up here.

"Don't make us take you by force," Tifa said, one foot in front of the other, not quite in a fighting pose but not completely friendly, either. "Come quietly. Let us hear your side of the story."

The hurt in Calleigh's voice was heavy. "You were _supposed_ to hear my story down _there_." She pointed to the stage. "Now it will continue."

A somewhat worn-looking Cloud Strife, bearing his modified buster sword, stepped toward her and extended his hand, palm up. "It's over. Come with us quietly, all right? We know what you've been through and we don't want to fight."

She would have found his restraint inspiring under other circumstances. He should have attacked her. As a keeper of the peace, an assassin was not to be trusted.

"You don't understand." Calleigh shook her head, clenching a fist. She looked Cloud straight on. "President Rufus is the not the man you think he is. He intends to rebuild Shinra and start the whole dysfunctional cycle all over again. He is using the WRO as a blanket operation. As long as he's alive, Shin-"

"Paranoid delusions!" the Turk interrupted. Chuckling under his breath, Reno strode away from the brick wall. He twirled his stick, his free hand in his blue suit pocket and said, in his blasé voice, "You don't _really_ think, after everything that's happened, after surviving an explosion that nearly killed him, after encountering Sephiroth a _second_ time, that President Rufus would attempt such a feat?"

"Be quiet, you rat-tailed lapdog. I know what I'm talking about," Calleigh snapped. She turned back to the other two. "Cloud…Tifa. I respect both of you for all that you've done for this world. But I cannot go with you peacefully."

She stepped backwards, onto the roof's edge.

"Don't!-" Tifa started, and gasped as Calleigh leaped off the edge.

She and Cloud ran to the edge, only to spot the red-headed woman sliding her way down the building, using metal claws that extended from her gauntlets to anchor her to the side.

"Damn!" Cloud swore, and he dove after her, landing on a fire escape platform. Tifa followed, clambering down a rain gutter. Reno merely walked to the other side of the building and leaned over, looking down into the alleyway below. A few seconds ticked by, but eventually a woman in purple, black, and navy blue appeared, her hood drawn over her head. A woman with claws for hands.

He took aim down the sight of his striking staff. He waited until he had a clear shot. Calleigh never felt the three-inch dart sinking into her neck. She collapsed almost instantly.

"Hmph, look who's getting sniped now?" Reno clucked. He made his way to the main stairwell and disappeared.

Cloud and Tifa skidded to a halt several feet from Calleigh's unconscious body. Tseng and Elena stood on the other side of her at the end of the alley. A sleek, black, four-door hovercraft idled in neutral behind them. The back seat door lifted up automatically.

"Nice work," Tseng complimented sarcastically.

"Don't thank us." Cloud lowered his sword, pointing to the dart in Calleigh's neck. He stared pityingly at her unconscious form, recalling his last moments of consciousness in a Mako Reactor far, far away, and years ago. "What could you possibly want with her?" he demanded.

"She may be a danger to herself and others, but she's still Shinra property, and expensive property at that," Tseng said, as if it were simple mathematics to a child. "We're reclaiming what belongs to the company."

Tifa's face darkened with disgust. "You can't OWN a person!"

"Ha! This psychopath is hardly a person," Elena said, and began dragging Calleigh's body towards the vehicle. "GODS!" the blonde Turk grunted. "This bitch weighs a ton!"

"Elena, show some stoicism." Tseng stepped forward and barricaded himself between her and them. "Why are you against us apprehending this dangerous criminal?" he asked. "One that Shinra made in the first place. Think of it as…cleaning up another mistake."

"Because we still have good reason not to trust you," Cloud said flatly. "Rufus may have earned my…respect, but you're still nothing more than thugs to me."

Tseng ignored him. Elena stopped to wipe perspiration from her forehead before continuing to unceremoniously drag the assassin towards the hovercraft. Cloud and Tifa stepped forward a few paces, causing Tseng to straighten and reach for the gun holstered at his side.

"Hmph," he grunted. "Stubborn as usual. Are you going to let us take her in peace, or do you want to start another scene? Because I think Edge City's citizens have had enough disturbances for one day. And why does it matter whether she's detained by you or by us?"

"I don't like this," Tifa said, turning to Cloud for help.

"Neither do I," said Cloud, tightening his grip on his sword.

"Last chance to avoid a fight," Tseng warned.

Cloud groaned, lowered his sword arm, and turned to Tifa. As much as he would have loved the chance to kick Turk ass, he knew what had to be done.

"Let's let them go," he told her.

"Cloud!" Tifa's eyes widened in shock. "Who knows what they'll do to her." She leaned in and whispered, "You of all people should be against this."

"I know, I know. But she was a paranoid criminal," Cloud reasoned. "Nothing she said adds up. And we tried to have her come quietly. She refused."

Tifa shook her head and pointed to Tseng. "I can't believe you're on HIS side. She should have had a trial at least."

Tseng watched the couple argue with a bemused expression on his face. _Ah, coupled life,_ he thought. _And just when I was thinking about asking Elena out on another date…_

"What? I'm NOT on his side," Cloud argued back. "But Rufus _has_ changed. The whole world has." He hesitated, but then put his arm around her. He was not a public affection type of person, so she knew this was no light decision for him. She was about to chase after Elena anyway, but something stopped her. High-pitched, excited voices coming from the adjacent street. It sounded like a group of children headed their way. She would not cause a scene in front of them and risk putting them in danger.

"Fine," she said, lowering her arms. "Let's get outta here."

She watched Elena pull the woman's body into the hovercraft, grunting and complaining. Tifa knew there was very little room for doubt. Rufus had tried to prevent Sephiroth's summoning several years ago. Barrett had revealed to them after that incident that he, of all people, was indeed working with Shinra's president to find an alternate energy source. Rufus had funded and started up many of the projects that were sustaining Edge City's citizens, including the watermill generators that provided the electricity that ran her bar and delivery service down at Seventh Heaven. He had help set up clinics to treat stigma and that nasty flu that went around 6 months ago. There was no reason to doubt…except for what her heart told her.

"Sir!" Elena called.

Tseng nodded at his long-time enemies, and, with some difficulty, said stiffly, "Thank you…for your, er, assistance." With a whirl of his long dark hair, he climbed into the back seat. The door slid closed with a hiss and the hovercraft took off with the 'whirrrr' of its electric engine.

"C'mon," Cloud squeezed Tifa's shoulder. "It's over."

He headed for a main street that would lead to the town square, where he hoped to meet up with Barrett. He had some questions about Rufus's involvement in the WRO. Although he was certain Rufus checked out, the recent events had him second guessing. But he could never tell her that. He hated admitting it to himself.

Tifa stayed a pace behind him, watching the group of children that had rounded the bend. A woman in a purple skirt and white blouse led them by a colorful rope, which they all held on to with tiny hands. Tifa put her hands on her hips and stared at the ground.

"What's wrong?" Cloud asked, and smirked, "Thought Rufus's speech was overly-dramatic too, huh?"

Tifa rolled her eyes. "Ha-ha. Calleigh Rider said 'As long as he's alive, Shinra,' before Reno cut her off," she mused. "And the Turks seem awfully cockier than usual. Like they know something we don't."

"Yeah, just when I thought they couldn't be bigger assholes, they go ahead and get that souped up electric hovercraft."

"Cloud…"

He waited for her to catch up and put his arm around her again. "I'm going to talk to Barrett. We'll launch another investigation. But it'll turn up negative like last time. There's nothing to worry about, Tifa. She was a dangerous criminal who killed innocents to get to that rooftop. It's a good thing they're putting her away."

"Still, I can't help but wonder…" Tifa said, tilting her head up to gaze at the spot where "Crazy Calleigh" had tried to end the president's life. "Do you REALLY think Rufus has changed?"

Cloud ran his fingers through his spiky hair. "Ah…yes. I do. I really believe he has." He laughed. "Much as I hate to admit it, Reno had a good point. Eventually, if a person takes enough beatings, he changes."

Tifa kicked at a crushed can with her shoe as they walked toward the square, which had emptied of people. "It's just that, that woman put her life on the line for this. Something must have convinced her to do it."

"Yeah, paranoia. She wasn't alone, either," Cloud added. "Someone's going to have to find whoever helped her, and catch them."

Tifa huffed, folding her arms. "We're not the police, you know."

"I'm not talking about us. The Turks will find them."

She shuddered. "Just talking about the Turks makes me think of the old days. And Rufus is bringing back Shinra…even if he's renaming it 'Zenith Inc.', it's still Shinra in my book."

"It's a completely new company merging with the WRO," Cloud reminded her. "Zenith will adhere to the WRO's policies and provide the funding and organization, WRO will provide the manpower and call the shots. It's all about getting the world up and running again. Don't you want to see Marlene and Denzel have class in a nice school, instead of an abandoned factory? And Aeris's church rebuilt?"

"Of course I do." She leaned against him and placed her hand on the pink ribbon Cloud wore around his arm, of the same kind that she wore around hers. She watched some volunteers sweep up trash, depositing it into bins on wheels.

"I want people to prosper. I want us…" She flushed and looked away from him. Cloud grew very uncomfortable and pretended to be interested in the light reflecting off the windows of the building nearby. But eventually, the silence got the better of him.

"Tifa?"

"Mmm?"

"You want us…to what?"

Tifa shook her head and said quickly, "Nevermind. It was silly."

Cloud didn't have time to interrogate her. Cid and Barrett had arrived, the Highwind filling up the square with the 'whooooosh' of its propellers. They climbed onto the airship and sat down at the board room (the president was no longer on board, and had been transported to a hidden location). Cloud discussed the recent events with them and asked how the president was doing, and what steps they should take, if they should help detain Calleigh's partners. But in the back of his head, he kept thinking about what Tifa had said, and completed the sentence over and over in his mind.

_I want us…to settle down._

_"Yo! When you gonna pop the question, Spiky?" Barrett's voice from a month ago interrupted his thoughts._

Not this memory…why now? Cloud listened to Cid, but in his mind…

"_I dunno. Soon."_

_ "Soon! Get your ass in gear, fool! She's waitin' on you to make the next move."_

_ "I'm not ready to do the married life. There's a lot of work that needs done."_

_ "Don't mean you can't get married. All I'm hearin' is excuses from you. Just go on and do it. And make sure I'm your best man, of course."_

_ "Ahhh, I still don't know."_

_ "Come on man. You guys are already practically tied at the hip. Jes' take the next step."_

_ "…All right, all right. I'll do it."_

He glanced to his left at Tifa, who was also listening to their friends, but she, too, looked distracted. His hand strayed from beneath the table and found hers. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and flashed him a small smile.

_ Soon_. _I'll ask her soon_, Cloud thought.


	2. Cornered

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 2: Cornered

"Iris! You finished up with that delivery yet? I need you back at headquarters!"

Static. Hot wind howled down from the white dunes. Alone, surrounded by a rippling sea of heat waves, sand, and a single black strip of highway, a young woman held a small circular transmitter to her ear.

"Yeah Ten, I hear you. Package was delivered. On my way back."

"You out of the desert yet?"

"…Not yet."

"Shit, girl. Get your ass in gear! I've got another delivery due in two hours!"

"I know, I'm sorry." The woman rubbed the tell-tale signs of a hangover migraine throbbing at her temples. "I was, er, held back."

"Wha' happened? This was s'posed to be a simple supply drop off at Kalm. Are you in trouble? You drinkin' on the job again?"

The woman paused. "No, not in trouble. And I'm not drunk…this time. I had to take a detour. There was a small avalanche, boulders were blocking my way. I had to backtrack and go around, it added another fifty miles or so to my route." And she was telling truth. She wished she wasn't. Man, that had been a pain in the ass.

Ten said dubiously, "Uh huh, yeah, sure. Look Iris, I dunno if that's the truth or not, but you better get back here stat. I've got a priority client for you."

Iris shifted her weight in her dark brown and black hiking boots, one foot to the other. "What sort of priority are we talkin' about here?"

"Zenith affiliated, VIP, top secret…Goddamn it, no more stupid ass questions. Just get back here safe and sound, ai'ght?"

"As long as there's a drink for me when I get back."

"Damn it. This is your last chance. If you screw up agin', and I mean this time, you're gonna be fired so fast your spiky blonde head'll spin."

"_What_-ever, Ren-Ten," Iris chided. "Ugh. This heat sucks." She massaged her temples and shielded her eyes from the sun.

"I'm serious, chica. And you best watch out, the streets can get nasty after dark. Bandits and thugs and—"

"I think can handle myself."

"Is that so? Well don't come cryin' to me when you wake up on the side of the road with a lump on yo head and a pain in your rear and no recollection of—"

Click. The transmission ended. Iris pulled her helmet visor down and hitched onto a sleek red and black motorcycle with thick tires. The bike had a control panel like a small cockpit, with a GPS mapping screen, the usual gauges, a radio, and a charger for her transmitter. Plus a few extra buttons in case of "tricky situations." She thought of the bandits and thugs Ten had mentioned and felt slightly guilty for hanging up on him, though they were both used to their conversations ending abruptly. Such was the case for people with tempers.

_Ren-Ten could be so dramatic sometimes_, she thought, then winced as a fresh bolt of pain drove through her head. _Son of a bitch, this hangover is coming up on me fast. I better get back._

An eerie silence pressed in from the desert, which had spread, encroaching on more fertile lands, since Meteor hit some two-hundred years ago. It was peaceful, the silence, yet very eerie, almost graveyard-like in the dimming light. If she listened hard, she could hear the wind singing through the dunes, whispering something always just out of earshot. She didn't like it. She was used to the noisy city, of drunken brawlers at 5 in the morning, and all this quiet was downright unsettling.

"Well, I've had enough 'dune explorer' for one day. Better get going," she said aloud, a hint of unease in her voice. She kicked her bike to life.

The motorcycle lurched forward and shot off, engine roaring. Wind rushed past her, howling high-pitched and cold against her skin. Her hair blew in a wild cornflower-yellow cloud behind her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she approached a massive red mesa. Turning hard to her right, she leaned in, her stomach dropping, but not as bad as it had the first time she'd rounded a tight corner doing 80 or 90 mph. She leaned in, in, and in some more, she was practically level with the ground…a few more inches and she would be road kill, dinner for the lizards and vultures…

The bike hugged the outer edge of the turn, her tires practically kissing desert sand, and she rose out of the dip, gripped the throttle tightly and with a burst of speed cleared it, leaving nothing but a trail of sandy dust behind her, which turned a reddish clay color in the evening sun.

She had no intention of slowing down. Neo Midgar (formerly Edge City) was still a black silhouette in the sky, and anyone worth their salt around here knew that you didn't want to be on the roads at night. There was no telling what might set up booby traps under the cover of darkness. Usually it was thieves; they'd rob you and leave you to wander around in your birthday suit, but at least some of them let you live. And there were things, and people, if you could call rapists and murderers people, worse than thieves lurking on the outskirts of the last thriving metropolis on the planet. It was a dangerous place for anyone, especially a woman by herself.

The land rose rapidly around her, the desert gradually fading into grasslands with tiny shrubs, and finally trees and greenery. She skidded her bike to a halt at the crest of the incline, taking a quick moment to rest and massage her knuckles (a soothing habit of hers) as she surveyed the land below her with blue eyes that had just a hint of vibrant, neon green in them—Mako eyes.

Her home, the once-great city of Neo Midgar, arose on the horizon, an amoebic mishmash of metal buildings, cluttered cubes that made up the slums, and one laser-green bio-dome where much of their food was grown. It was a sight very different from the Midgar of the old days, where the Shinra building rose high into the sky and the rest of the buildings stretched up toward it like weeds to a proud tree. There was no Shinra building now. There was Zenith, and its subordinate organization, the WRO. Much of its headquarters were underground in the renovated area that was once home to Deepground.

_Just like a desert snake_, she thought. _Or a spider. Creepin' underground while the rest of the world slowly turns to desert._

From behind her, she heard an exhaust pipe sputter.

Before she had time to wonder how long she'd been standing on that ledge, a whole gang of bikers, at least eight, she counted quickly, rounded the nearest bend and came into view. The pack moved silently and in near-perfect unison. Their bikes were specially designed to be muffled. And the tiny satellites rotating between the handlebars screwed up her GPS signal and radar.

_Which explains why I didn't hear anything 'til they were practically on my ass!_ Iris thought. Her mouth drew into a solid line, and her hands trembled a bit, but she put on a cloak of cool composure and leaned against her motorcycle as the bikers—their red bandanas and dark sunglasses giving them away as the "Red Sun" gang—formed a V-formation around her. Behind her, the wind sailed up from below the ledge, brushing the back of her neck with cool air smelling of machinery. The hill was steep, but she just might be able to make it down at top speeds if she concentrated. If she lost control she'd tumble like a snowball and probably mash herself into jelly with her own bike.

The bikers rolled forward slightly.

_Hold your ground_, she thought, and the thought was not completely her own.

"Aw, shucks, fellas," she said, folding her arms. "All eight of you and just little ole me? This hardly doesn't seem fair."

"Not very smart of you to be out here all alone," grunted the leader, who donned a helmet with dragon horns curling out of the sides and a fanged animal skull coming down like a visor over his face, giving him a hollow-eyed look.

"Nice bike you got there!" cackled a lanky rider in a sleeveless shirt, riding an elongated bike on her right. She took a step to her left as he inched forward. "Wha'choo got in the side saddles?"

Iris felt sweat trickle down the back of her neck. Her hair suddenly felt like a heavy mop on top of her head, weighing her down. The bikers inched closer, their engines puttering softly, trembling in anticipation. The other bikers jeered and laughed.

"I…uh…" Iris glanced down at her bike, which was idling. Could she hop onto it and get going in time? Maybe she better just let them rob her…But something about the looks on their faces told her they had more in mind than theft. These weren't grizzled old rubbernecks who lost all their money gambling and drinking and who robbed because they needed more gil. These were all young men, some of them younger than her, even. They still had pieces of their souls left to lose.

The leader lifted his visor. He regarded her with keen, dark, eyes reduced to practically slits. He smiled, his teeth shockingly white against his tanned skin. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead beneath his helmet. He looked to be about her age, 18 or so.

"C'mon now," he goaded. "Be a good girl and maybe we'll let you keep all your body parts the way they are." His eyes glanced below her waist and she felt a flush creep into her face. "Well, most of 'em, anyway."

The other bikers hooted and hissed and uttered rude remarks about her anatomy.

Iris flushed harder and dropped her guard. She brought her hands down and nervously played with the frayed ends of her cutoff shorts. She eyed their leader with one eye, the other covered by her hair, which she let fall in her face like a curtain.

"Okay, you guys can have my bike. Just don't hurt me. 'Kay?" she squeaked. She focused on the leader as he dismounted his bike and took a few steps toward her.

"Cut the fucking Suzie-Q act, sister," he spat. "Those are fighter's gloves you're wearing and no schoolgirl rides a fuckin' bike, let alone one that size. Now if you think you can take all eight of us on, c'mon and try it." He flashed his teeth again and shrugged, producing a pocketknife from his jeans, which he flicked open. "Otherwise, hold still, shut the hell up, and maybe we'll let you live."

Iris sighed and put a hand on her hip. "I swear on Shiva's tits, you gangster-types are all the same. Before you said with all my body parts intact. Now you're saying you'll let me live. I'm getting mixed messages he-UGH!"

The leader lunged forward, Iris hadn't expected it; he caught her off guard with a knee to the stomach. The breath crushed out of her lungs. Nausea and raw pain flooded her senses. She struggled to keep her footing, but he grabbed her by the hair and wrenched, hard. She gritted her teeth and heard the other bikers hollering and revving their engines, loudly this time, so no one could hear her scream. Soon they would all close in on her and she wouldn't stand a chance. The man grabbing her hair jerked her head back. Blessed air rushed into her lungs.

Her assailant brought back his fist, shot it forward. Something caught it. The biker looked down to see his fist enclosed in Iris's glove.

"What the-!" He didn't have enough time to finish his sentence as Iris launched a high kick at his head. He jerked his head back. Her heel caught the underside of his jaw. His grip loosened as he stumbled backwards, and that was all Iris needed. She twisted free of him and spun around, jump-kicking the biker who had snuck up behind her. Her boot caught him square in the face with a smack and he crumpled to the dirt.

"One down. Seven more to go," Iris huffed, sliding into a fighter's stance. "Which one of you a-holes is next?"

"Get the bitch!" the leader yelled. A man on her left brought out a gun, she didn't wait to see what kind. She dove out of his line of fire, rolled, sprang up, and rushed him from the side, throwing her body weight into it as she drove her elbow into his gut. He choked and slouched forward, dropping his weapon on the other side of his bike. She didn't have time to kick it out of the way. Three more men rushed her, one in the front and two on the side. They all had guns pointed directly at her. She dropped behind the bike as they opened fire, praying the bike would be enough cover.

She caught a glimpse of someone's shirt above her. Her hands shot out and grabbed, yanked downward with surprising strength (no easy feat, her assailant was sweating like a gambling addict at the Golden Saucer). The biker flew forward, yelling and cursing, he got to his feet and went to shoot at her again, but she got his arm behind his back and pulled upward. The man groaned as his shoulder popped, his gun hand went limp. The other armed biker fired at her. Using the man in front of her as a shield, she knelt down and grabbed the gun and threw it away, way over the ledge. She became vaguely aware that the man whose arm she had locked in her grip was sagging, a sickening gurgling sound coming from his throat, like dirty water bubbling up from a clogged sink.

She had to get rid of her human shield. The man's dead body weight was getting too heavy. She dropped him. The remaining bikers, along with the leader, all rushed her at once, screaming and cursing and waving weapons—chains, pipes, guns, and the leader had a katana, along with his knife.

"Shiiiiiiit," Iris swore, backing up against a rock wall. They had her cornered. Suddenly everything was moving slowly, as if she were in a terrible dream, or the air had turned thick and gelatinous. Maybe it was the knee to the chest, or the gunfire, but she could have sworn she heard an engine approaching. Or maybe it was her own heartbeat thudding in her ears. She was outnumbered. She had been foolish to try and take them on…

"We got you now, you little bitch!" The nearest biker said. He lowered his gun, his finger touched the trigger—right before a shadow fell across his body. His face jerked upward but he had no chance.

"OH FU-!"

He took a spinning front tire to the face, and knew no more. A blue and black motorcycle landed on top of him, swerved sideways, skidded, and bowled over two bikers. The others dodged out of its way, flailing.

Shocked, Iris willed her legs to work and pumped them in the direction of her motorcycle. In her way, however, was the gang leader, his visor down again, skull sneering at her, and the tips of his swords headed rapidly towards her heart. He did not see the man charging full speed at him, not until the man's robotic fist was in his face. The leader's helmet exploded into dust, bone fragments flying, and his blades clanked to the ground. The remaining bikers saw this, hesitated, and clambered onto their bikes. Iris ran after a straggler, the lanky one, grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, kneed him in the gut, and dealt him a swift uppercut to the face. His nose disintegrated beneath her knuckles with a crack and he passed out.

Suddenly it was very quiet. Iris, bent over with her hands on her knees, looked around. The other bikers had cut their losses and taken off, were already around the bend. A cloud of dust had risen all around them, and someone lay off to the side moaning for his mother, but that was all Iris heard until…

"Satisfied?" the newcomer grunted over his shoulder, his good one. His other shoulder stood out dramatically, a rounded plate with spikes sticking out of it, and his arm was also prosthetic—dark blue plates protecting metal bone, tubing, wires pumping oily blood, the finest in black market artisanship.

"N-No," Iris gasped, heaving heavy breaths. "We should…chase 'em down…kill their… stupid asses."

"Probably not the best idea, Iris. Nice bruise, by the way," the man pointed. She looked down at her bare stomach to see a dark black spot the size of a chocobo egg already forming on her reddened skin.

"Shit," Iris muttered. The man dusted off bone fragments and powder from his synthetic arm and walked over to her. He was Iris's age, and had thick hair that was so black it absorbed sunlight and had no reflective qualities whatsoever. It hung around his eyes and down his neck, but stopped there. A red bandana was wrapped around his forehead, which he insisted allowed him to see, and which Iris constantly questioned. He was dressed in dark jeans, black boots, and a black sleeveless shirt, and appeared completely fit and healthy, were it not for his left mechanical arm and shoulder.

He put his hands on his hips and eyed her. Something silent passed between them.

"I see you did a great job holding your ground," he smirked.

"Shut up, Amon." Iris gave him her shoulder as she headed for her bike, inspecting it. Amon started walking around, finishing off the bikers one by one with a specially designed, curved blade that ran from his wrist to his elbow.

"How the hell did you manage to get yourself into this one?" he asked while kneeling over the body of the leader.

"I had just stopped for a breather…I wasn't going to be long. The bastards snuck up on me," Iris said. She checked herself from head to toe, and determined the knee to the stomach was the worst injury she'd collected from that foray. Aside from some scratches, she was all right. At least her hangover was gone…

Amon went over, checked the next body and said, "You should know better than to stop."

Iris sighed. "I don't need a lecture, all right? We've both been riding these roads for years."

"Yeah, and? You're damn lucky I heard them making all that noise."

"Why _were_ you out here anyway?"

"Ren-Ten sent me to collect you."

Iris laughed sardonically. "Shame. I was just beginning to think he trusted me." Then, realizing she hadn't done so yet, "Oh yeah. Thanks for saving my ass."

Amon mumbled something and pretended to be interested in a nail-studded bat that one of the bodies was clutching.

"Look, I owe you one, ok?" she insisted.

Iris winced as Amon rose up from the ground, flicking blood off the blade on his cybernetic arm. His expression said that she should not have taken recent events so lightly. There was genuine worry on his face, something she had seen him shake off long ago. She decided the subject needed changing, and quickly.

"Hey," she said, glancing at the bodies. "Since when do you…"

"Dogs like these don't deserve to live," he answered, wiping blood off his blade on the shirt of one of them. "Besides, I was doing them all a favor. They would have died from internal bleeding, or whatever else. Hey, why don't you make yourself useful and see if these boys have anything good on 'em."

"Loot the dead?"

Amon smiled wanly. "Why not? They ain't using it anymore."

"You know you can be a real boner sometimes."

He shrugged. "Hey, takes one to know one. Why don't you at least collect their weapons? We can sell 'em at Wall Market."

"…Fine. Maybe we'll find some materia," Iris said hopefully.

Amon snorted. "Don't make me laugh. I haven't seen any for about five years, and that was when SOLDIER had that parade down Strife Avenue and their captains were showing off, casting Fire3 in the air. I remember drooling over it."

"Yeah, that stuff's hard to come by. But imagine what a price Fire or Lightning would sell for…even completely new stuff is going for 500,000 gil, or so I heard."

"I'll never see that much gil if I live to be 200," Amon said regretfully.

Iris went about collecting the weapons, check pockets and saddle bags. Those thugs might be back to collect from their dead friends. It was better to leave them with nothing. She held up the katana that lay a few yards away from the leader's body. The sword looked like it would fetch at least 1000 gil on the market, maybe more if she pawned it at the right place. The other stuff would altogether probably get them 500 gil. The guns and ammo they buried under a rock and hid the burial site under some shrubs. It was Iris's and Amon's shared belief that guns were bastardized weapons, unworthy of use by true fighters. So was materia, but since they didn't have a prayer of ever affording it (or obtaining by more creative means) they didn't think much on the moral implications of magic.

"We done here?" Iris asked him, stretching out a cramp in her leg.

"Yeah, let's get the hell out of this shithole," Amon said, heading for his blue motorcycle.

Iris mounted her bike, her actions causing a wave of pain to shoot through her abdomen. She huffed and brought the front wheel facing the road, in the direction of Neo Midgar. Amon rode up beside her. Looked at her, not affectionately, but with concern. Blue eyes met blue-green. The same eyes she'd been looking at since childhood.

"You okay?" he asked.

It was a simple question. It was not a simple question. Was she? Her body trembled slightly from the adrenaline. In an hour or so it would wear off and the real pain would begin. Just her body healing itself…but pain nevertheless. She had survived worse, but not much worse. What she would do after she healed, hell, after tonight's delivery, that was a mystery. Hopefully it wwouldn't involve her drinking alone in her apartment with her cat, Brutus. Although a warm bath and some hot sake didn't sound bad, either.

"Let's hope Ten doesn't fire me." She offered him a small smile of assurance.

Amon snorted and his carefree demeanor came back. "I KNOW for a fact you're fired," he said. "But let's go find out anyway."

They revved their bikes and prepared to leave. No sooner had Iris's fingers gripped the throttle when she heard Amon say under his breath,

"Ifrit's horns, look!"

The way he said it sent goosebumps down her arms. Something had disturbed him. She followed the direction his metal finger was pointing. Her eyes scanned the distance, to the eastern edge of Neo Midgar, then along the highway, the only road leading east. A few miles outside the city, a caravan of some sort was making its way down the road. She counted three shapes, what looked like trucks. Amon nudged her and handed her a pair of binoculars.

"Thanks."

She peered through them. The caravan consisted of three trucks, she had been correct. They were driven by…

"Are those…men in funny black capes?" she asked.

Amon nodded. "Looks like the circus is leaving town."

The backs of their trucks were loaded with oddly-shaped burlap sacks. Sacks shaped like people. Iris shivered and muttered, "Ugh, they give me the creeps."

The strangers' hoods concealed their faces, giving them the illusion that they had no flesh. Several more were sitting in the backs of the trucks, hunched over, and she thought she saw glimpses of red where their eyes should have been. No, that must have been a trick of the light. She was tired from the fight. A shudder escaped her. She handed Amon his binoculars.

"C'mon, let's get back to civilization," Amon gestured to Neo Midgar.

"Who were those weirdo's?" Iris asked as they took off at a slow pace down the hill.

"Dunno," Amon said. "Why they'd want to leave the greatest city in the world though, beats me."

"You're in a ripe mood."

"I just rescued you from a bunch of gang-bangers. My view of society isn't exactly squeaky clean right now."

They cleared the hill and descended into a valley. Neo Midgar rose, bigger and bigger, becoming less horizon and more foreground every second. Iris felt the desolation of the desert and the loneliness of the road seeping out of her. Sure, Meteorfall had brought civilization down a few pegs, and Zenith was once again the sole superpower, albeit one that didn't rely on Mako. The king of the rubble pile, as it were. At least she would be safe in the city. And she had Amon, and Ren Ten, when he wasn't threatening to fire her or scolding her about her work ethic (if it existed).

"Listening to you you'd think the world was about to end," Iris smirked.

Amon turned toward her, his bike only a few feet from hers. He sped up, his engine growling loudly, but she thought she heard him say,

"The world's already ended! This is just what's left over!"

As they crossed the border into the city that sat on a green island, an island shrinking slowly in the surrounding desert and nuclear wastes, Iris thought, _I hate to admit it, but he's right._


	3. Pandora's Box

Chapter 3: Pandora's Box

Iris and Amon arrived outside of Strife Supplies and Delivery, which, like everything else around it, was built on top of the ruins of Sector 7. Most of the buildings in the area were scrap metal collected from the rubble and reassembled into some semblance of a structure. Roofs were compiled out of sheet metal, walls stacked chunks of cement and beams, and even the furniture was crafted from different pieces of junk metal. Many people in Neo Midgar were junk yard workers, spending all day sifting through the mountain of scrap that was once the old city, which sat like an obedient shadow to the north. The interior of Strife Supplies and Delivery was a large garage with many filing cabinets and storage bins towards back, and a loft area with a desk and computer above. They brought their bikes in through the double garage doors, dragging in sand and grit from the wastelands.

A broad-shouldered, dark skinned man with long black dreadlocks came down the stairs leading from the loft, clutching a metal box under one arm.

"That better be my pay," Iris told him.

"It ain't," he grunted. He wore a dark green trench coat, large, black boots with metal studs, and a pair of old army camouflage fatigues. He had no shirt, but black tribal tattoos covered his muscular chest, giving him the illusion of one from far away. Iris braced for an angry tirade, but instead he handed her the box.

Iris rattled it. It was the size of a shoebox, and Ten Wallace, great-great-great-great-great grandson of Barrett, shot out a hand and stopped her. "Amon messaged me about what happened." He looked her over. "Shee-it, that's a nasty bruise. I told you to watch out!"

"I _was_ watchin' out! They snuck up on me," Iris defended. "Now what's in the box?"

"Don't try an' change the subject," Ten shot back. "You know I promised your dad that I'd look out for ya. Do you know what he'd do to me if somethin' happened to you?"

Iris bristled and stamped her foot. "My welfare is none of your business! I'm not a child that needs babysitting." She rustled the box again. Bringing it up to her ear, she asked excitedly, "Now, what's in this thing?"

Amon brought his palm to his face and walked away.

"None'yo business!" Ten snapped. "That's what. But it's gonna be late in…a half an hour. So you better get going. Drop it off at the mail desk at Zenith Headquarters. Then I want you to go home and rest."

"Aren't you gonna yell at me? Threaten to fire me?" Iris asked, box held aloft.

"No," Ten said.

"ACTUALLY fire me?"

Amon nudged her with his good elbow. "Yo! Let's get going."

"Wait a sec, I don't need his sympathy!" Iris yelled, stabbing her index finger at Ten. "Any other day this'd be enough to get me fired, or at least bitched at. Just because I…lost…I mean, they outnumbered me…" she mumbled.

Ten humphed and said, "Now's not the time to get your head all messed up, jes cuz you lost a battle. Shit happens. If it was something else, you're goddamn right I'd be pissed but…damn, Iris. Just consider yourself lucky. S'all I'm sayin'."

Amon took the package from her and secured it in one of her bike's compartments.

"C'mon, I'll go with you," he said. "We'll stop at The Flying Sister and get a drink after, how about it?"

"Fine," Iris said, her face red. She hopped onto her bike and began to roll out of the garage. The toes of her boots skidded against the concrete. Amon pulled up beside her. She glanced back over her shoulder at Ten, who was looking at her strangely with his hands in his pockets.

"What're you waitin' for? Get on with that fucking delivery!" he yelled.

Iris grinned. "That's more like it."

Amon rolled his eyes and together they rode into the street. Ten watched them round a corner and lowered the garage doors, closing up shop for the day.

They rode towards Center City, taking Gainsborough Street toward Gaia Square. There wasn't much to look at on the way there, the same everyday sights of shanty shacks, people mulling around outdoor bars and gathering places, the old community centers, where people could play games, watch TV, gossip, and participate in the latest trend—standing near outdoor fountains of a special type of dry ice to keep cool on the summer nights. Almost no one had a personal television or a computer in their home. No one gave the motorcycles a passing glance. Smaller, electric-powered vehicles were a common sight. Biker gangs were a common pest. It was more unusual to see gas-powered trucks or even an airship.

Iris drifted around the large brass statue of the planet, Gaia, with the figure of a young woman sitting on her knees on top of it, head tilted down, praying to summon Holy—the magic that had saved Gaia from the apocalypse, brought on by Sephiroth, the renegade Shinra general who went insane when he was possessed by an alien life form known as Jenova.

_Hi Aeris,_ she thought as they rode by, giving her a brief mental salute, as was tradition each time she passed. They reached the end of the square and pulled up to the gates of Zenith, Inc. A long stairway, built like an ancient temple, stretched up several stories high to the main doors, which were nestled between two large pillars. A gilded plaque hung on the gate wall read "ZENITH INC., ESTABLISHED '06 PMF" (the PMF stood for Post-Meteorfall) FOR THE BETTERMENT OF MANKIND AND THE PLANET."

Iris eyed the sign with peevish contempt, eyes glimmering icily. Zenith, who promised to be different from Shinra. Zenith, who pretended to work with the WRO, but eventually took over it. They attempted to take more natural resources from the planet, but ended up draining it near dry. That hadn't been the WRO's idea of "regenerating" the world, but after the WRO failed at numerous attempts to feed the enormous populations of starving, struggling people, and after failing at finding a sufficient energy source, eventually Zenith went back to Mako. Her great-great grandfather, Ignatius Strife, remembered the day they reopened the first Mako reactor. There hadn't even been an uprising, just a grim acceptance from the people.

She was filled with a sudden malice, and what she did next, she did almost blindly.

Without a word, she took off back around the giant memorial, zipped through traffic past a few more blocks, and cut down a quiet side street cluttered with junk that was called Mage Lane. She hopped off her bike and ducked behind a dumpster.

Amon hopped off his bike, causing several rats to flee into the shadows. He unhinged the kickstand with his heel, and ducked down next to her swiftly. "Are you insane?" he hissed.

Iris ran her fingers along the box's edge, with "PROPERTY OF ZENITH INC." engraved on the top. She drummed her fingers on the lid excitedly and said, "Let's open it!"

"The Zenith Infantry probably have cameras on this street and are watching what we're doing this very second!" Amon stood up and looked around. Iris yanked on his shirt and pulled him back down. His metal arm clanked against the dumpster with a 'WHONGGGG!' and Iris winced.

"The Zee don't care about this street. But think about it," she told him. "Whatever's in here has to be extremely valuable."

"Iris," Amon groaned. "We're under oath."

"This is ZENITH we're talking about, remember?" She rolled her eyes. "Scum sucking tyrant company of the world? The least they owe the common folk is a peek at their secret stash."

"Like they'd trust anything THAT important to a delivery service," Amon said, then added, "Oh, and one named after their old enemy."

"I still say we open it. What's the harm?" She turned her body towards him. "Your arm can hack electric locks, right?" She thrust the box into his lap. "Work your magic!"

Amon glanced away guiltily, then sighed and took the box. He was, when all things boiled down, just as anxious as she was. They were both country kids with a natural curiosity for the unknown. There could be no greater thrill.

"This was your idea, so if we get arrested, the score's even," he said. The two of them had a running competition—whoever had the most on their permanent record at the WRO's police station had to buy the first drink every time they went out.

"You're still two ahead of me. Remember the incident with the old Chocobo you let loose on the high school field?" Iris giggled. "During the helicopter show to promote Z.I."

"How was I supposed to know the stupid shit was attracted to shiny objects?" Amon growled, a small computer screen on his wrist flashing and scrolling through numbers as he typed different codes into the lock's panel. "It took me a week to clean all the blood and feathers off that chopper. Damn."

The electric lock buzzed angrily.

"Watch it! It's gonna lock us out, and then we'll really be in trouble," Iris whispered.

"WHY ARE YOU WHISPERING IF NO ONE USES THIS STR-" Amon boomed, but was cut off when Iris slapped her hand over his mouth.

"Less talking more lock picking," she ordered.

"Shut up, dick breath, I'm going as fast as I can." Amon's fingers tapped the numbers rapidly, until eventually, the panel on his wrist beeped, displaying the highest probability combinations with each failure, but each time he failed, the lock box beeped threateningly.

"What's the use of all those fancy gadgets in your arm if they can't break one stinkin' lock?" Iris whined.

"If you complain one more goddamned time, I swear to Ramuh-"

DING! The lid clicked and opened with the sound of air being released out of a pressure chamber. Iris made a grab for the box as Amon put his good hand on the lid. Their fingertips brushed. Iris drew her hand back, and Amon cracked a sheepish smile, cheeks flushing.

"Er, I got it." He opened the lid. They gasped in pure, almost childish wonderment.

"No. Freaking. Way." Iris leaned in, the box's contents reflecting pure crimson light onto her skin.

Amon said breathlessly, "Hoooooly shit, we hit the jackpot."

Nestled in the box in black velvet, neatly arranged into rows, were twelve red materia orbs, each about the size of a small apple. To Iris, they seemed to swirl and glint with otherworldly intelligence.

"You better take that Ramuh comment back," she said.

"This is incredible, nearly all of the summons materia ever documented must be in here," said Amon, setting the box down reverently on the ground.

"They must have used these," Iris murmured.

"Huh?"

"Nothin'. Hey, let me hold one." She reached for one in the bottom row…

"Nope!" Amon slammed the box shut. The lock chirped as it reset itself.

Iris stared at him as if he had just cut off one of her limbs.

"WHAT? This case is worth more than anything on the planet!" She grabbed for the box, but Amon swung it up out of her reach.

"No way. I let you get away with A LOT, but after all that's happened today, forget about it."

"I can't believe you!" Iris spat. She stood up and put her hands on her narrow hips. "We can't give something like this to Zenith."

"No, but we can't keep it, either. They'll have the Turks after us faster than you can say 'Accidental Death'."

Fuming, Iris strutted back and forth. With her long, wild, spiky hair and equally long, lean legs, she did look rather like a pissed off chocobo. Amon snorted.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothin'. Let's get going."

Iris blinked. "Where?"

He stood up and went over to his bike, depositing the box in his side saddle and locking it. He leaned forward and said, with a devilish glint in his eyes, "We're gonna hide the materia. Somewhere really secret, where no one will ever know. Then we'll disappear for a while. Then, when we're sure no one's following us, we go back, get the materia, hitch a ship West, and retire in Costa Del Sol."

Iris rubbed her chin. "Mmmm, everything about that sounds great, buuuut."

"But what?"

"But I'd rather go to Cosmo Canyon."

Amon shrugged. "Whatever! We can split it, I'll by Costa Del Sol, and you can buy Cosmo Canyon. We'll be billionaires. Shit, I'll buy Zenith Inc. and the WRO. Together, we can rebuild Gaia."

"You…aren't serious, are you?" Iris asked, crestfallen.

Amon slapped his knee. "Goddamn right I'm not."

"Bastard." Iris kicked a trash can lid at his kneecaps.

Amon dodged the lid with a hop and declared, "This is going to Zenith Inc., and you

better pray to Odin they don't check the lock's history to see when this box was last opened."

Iris stooped to one knee and prayed at the saddle bag, "Please Mr. Odin, don't strike me down with your lance for wanting to screw over the evilest organization in existence!"

Amon made a sound of disgust and hopped onto his bike. "You have no shame, you know that?"

"I have plenty of shame!" Iris spat, getting up.

"Yeah? You've got dirt on your knee," he sneered.

Iris gave him the finger.

"GO THEN! Take the stupid materia to Zenith, they're probably gonna melt them down and use them to build a fancy rocket to fire all the rich people into space and leave the rest of us here to rot." She climbed onto her bike.

Amon revved his engine and turned his bike away from her. "Crazy. I save your life today and this is how you treat me. Well, I'm gone."

"And you can rot with them," Iris snarled, and rode off in the opposite direction. Amon cursed and pounded his dashboard with his robotic hand, regretting it instantly as the bike's computer buzzed miserably. He watched sheets of old newspaper and trash float back down to the earth, launched into the air in Iris's wake. A white feather drifted down and landed on his dashboard. He swept it away and took off in the direction of Zenith, Inc.

Iris rocketed down Wall Market, ignoring lights, ignoring pedestrians, weaving through traffic and vending carts. She stopped outside of a bar she'd never been in and walked inside. The place was cool and dark. Perfect for her mood. She ordered a whiskey on the rocks and plopped down at the bar, her temper still white hot, and her abdomen aching dully.

_Idiot_ she seethed. _Where does he get off, telling me what to do? Just because we've known each other for forever…he's not my brother, or my dad. I thought we were best friends…_

She took another sip of whiskey. A few stools down, a guy was talking loudly to a girl about her age. Except the girl was wearing a short pink skirt and a bright yellow tube top, and had a deep tan and dark hair. She looked to be from the coast.

"You in town long enough to see them freaks in the black capes?" the man asked. He sounded like he'd already had a few.

"Oooh, they sure were creepy," the girl said, shivering. "What'd they call themselves again?"

"The Black Wings," said the man, taking a long sip from his beer bottle. "Bunch of nutters. Talking about the end of days and all that Reunion nonsense. Fuh!"

_In town? Amon must have known about them and didn't tell me! Another reason to be pissed at him_. Iris frowned.

This particular bar had a flat-screen, and she watched news footage of the Neo Midgar News Network, NMNN. A woman was standing in front of a vast field, with mountains in the distance.

_Weird. That kinda looks like the mountains back home,_ Iris thought. She sipped her whiskey.

The man went on, full of gusto, obviously enjoying every minute of the young bimbo's attention.

"I heard one of 'em, standing on a soap box in the Pleasure District."

The girl giggled. "You a regular there?"

Realizing his tactical error, the man cleared his throat and blurted, "Well er you see I had a friend who huh got into some trouble and needed me to come get him uh…that don't matter! Anyway, he had a crowd in front of him, that one, and he was going on and on about repenting for our sins and that only through full repentance and pledges to the One Winged Angel could they hope to save the world. Once they found The Key, they could unlock the gate to discord. Some utter nonsense, that. But somethin' about the way you couldn't see his face…like a ghost or something was preaching to me. I got the feeling he was staring at me from underneath his hood."

"Gods!" the girl gasped in horror. "You were really brave to have stood there. Um, do you think I could get a refill on this Highwind Breeze?"

"Sure thing, babe," the man said smoothly.

Iris rolled her eyes and sloshed the amber liquid around in her glass. To her, the ice cubes looked like icebergs floating in a sea of acid.

The Zenith Headquarters foyer was a large, flat, marble floor with pillars supporting the four corners. Two double stairwells led to the basement floors, where employees bustled up and down. A larger-than-life, bronze monument in the center of the floor of President and Founder Rufus Shinra, standing on a hill overlooking the Neo Midgar valley, reflected dully under the fluorescent lights.

_Great. Where's the mail room?_ Amon thought, looking around. This was his first time, in all his eighteen years of existence, at Zenith Headquarters. There were three knowledgeable-looking secretaries at the half-circle reception desk to his right.

Holding the box under one arm, he approached the nearest secretary, a young woman with large soda-bottle glasses and a cloud of curly brown hair. She glanced quickly at his arm, as did the others, but he paid them no mind. He was used to those looks of pity or fear.

"Can I help you, young man?" she asked in a sing-song voice that suggested she had given up on her dreams long ago.

"I have a delivery here, special priority, for…" Amon brought his cybernetic arm in front of him. The panel on his wrist flashed red and projected a holographic screen the size of a personal tablet computer. The secretaries ogled him and he pretended not to notice. He used his good index finger as a stylus and slid a few things on the screen around. "Ah yeah, a Mr. Lyall Vulpine?"

_Ok where have I heard that name before_ he thought.

"Oh yes, he's expecting you," said the secretary. She smiled and pressed a button on a communicator built into her desk.

"Hello?" came a man's voice.

"Mr. Vulpine, the package you've been waiting for has arrived."

Came an oily voice, "Excellent. Have a guard escort him down to level three, would you?"

The secretary pressed another button, which evidently called for security. A man in white and black Zenith Infantry armor came up from the stairwell and made his way over to them.

"Ma'am?"

"Please escort this young man down to level three to see Mr. Vulpine," the secretary ordered politely, shuffling same papers.

The guard gestured over his shoulder. "Right this way. We're, uh, going to have to scan you, of course."

Amon nodded. "Yeah, sure." He wasn't too keen on it, but they made him step aside and pass through a metal detector (which went off before he even stepped through it). They checked his pockets and a Z.I. technician inspected his arm.

"Er, what exactly does this thing do?" the technician asked, peering at the arm's circuitry. "Is this a hyper-synthetic exoskeleton? I believe they outlawed these three years ago…"

"Well," Amon interrupted, flexing his arm and spinning his wrist. "Aside from replacing the body part I lost, I can grind up a mean marguerita."

The technician gave him a dirty look, but stepped back. "All clear."

The guard led him down three flights of stairs, also carved marble. The walls of the building were shiny metal, with small, light blue LED lights lining the walls at waist height, as well as white fluorescents above. Amon certainly didn't get the impression that was going hundreds of feet below Gaia's surface. As they reached the first and second basement (main) floors, Amon craned his neck to get a better view, but the contents of each floor were hidden from sight from anyone coming down the stairs, strategically cut from view by a t-intersection.

They reached level three, which was surprisingly unremarkable. The guard led him down a wide hallway with identical hexagonal doors. Every now and then one swooshed open, an employee in a dark blue uniform with a red 'Z' stitched onto the right breast stepped out, and the doors swooshed closed. The guard stopped in front of a door with a plaque that read "Lyall Vulpine, Special Ops."

_Oh shit_, Amon thought, shifting the package under his human arm. The box had suddenly grown very, very heavy, and the efforts from the day's fight were starting to take a toll on his energy. _Now I remember. That guy's a Turk._

It was too late to turn back now. The guard pressed a radio panel on the side of the door and spoke into it, saying the package had arrived. The doors slid open, revealing a pristine white office. The only furniture inside was a desk, a chair, and a miniature chair fit for a child in the corner. Amon stared at it and could only guess what it was for. He didn't notice the man in the corner until he had stepped out and into the doorframe. Amon jumped.

"Holy shit!" he shouted, and his swear echoed down the hallway.

"Good evening," the man said. He was dressed in a white suit with shiny black shoes and a black tie. His dark hair was slicked back and gelled, and his eyes were equally dark and slightly slanted. He had a straight nose and high cheekbones. Overall, something about him was just…sneaky. Amon handed the box over to him, beginning to regret his refusal of Iris's plan, and watched with twisting innards as Lyall instantly checked the lock mechanism. It beeped, Amon thought, like it was tattling on him. Lyall shook his head.

"It seems this lock's been tampered with."

He leered at Amon, his dark eyes smoldering.

"Please, will you step in for a moment?"

Amon rubbed the back of his neck. "Er, I'd rather just leave, it's that's okay."

Lyall smiled coolly. "It wasn't a request. Now, don't be an imbecile. You never refuse an invitation from a Turk."

"First time for everything."

Amon punched the slick-haired man in his sneaky, wolfish face, and bolted down the hall. Lyall recovered quickly from the sucker punch. He cracked his neck once, and that was all.

"Sir!" the guard sputtered through his mask. "Are you all right?"

"You let him get away," Lyall said quietly, eyeing the guard. "Bring him back, or I'll see that you're strung by your Achilles tendons in our laboratory and give your body to weapons research."

The guard took off at full speed. Amon had made it up to the second level, but he hadn't gotten halfway to the first when the alarm sounded. A door slammed shut above him. The buzzers shrieked in his eardrums.

"Gods damn it!" Amon roared, and turned around. As he did so, he met a face full of sleeping gas.

"Night night," said the guard, kicking him in the shin with the pointed steel toe of his boot for his trouble.

Amon was vaguely aware that his leg was throbbing. His eyelids lowered, the stairwell became a blur, and he sank quickly into the arms of unconsciousness.


	4. On Dark Wings

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 4: On Dark Wings

The clock on the bar wall said the time was 11:35 p.m., but it felt much, much later to Iris. She finished the dregs of her whiskey and set her glass down on the bar. Several men were smoking cigarettes behind her, generating a cloud of smoke that hovered above everyone. Her eyes watered as she watched the flat-screen TV. A weatherman in a black suit with a neon-blue tie and spiked white hair was droning on about hurricane cells near the resort town of Costa Del Sol. Iris rested her chin on her palm, trying hard not to nod off, and to not think about how pissed she was at Amon. It worried her a little that she hadn't heard from him in over two hours, but their fights could last for weeks at a time. Still, she had a bad feeling that wouldn't go away. Or maybe it was only the stress from earlier creeping up on her. She rubbed her bruised belly absently.

"Well, to all the folks watching, it's a little early in the season, but this storm has already advanced to a Category 3," the weatherman said, "cutting off trade routes from the Eastern and Western ports. So don't expect any oranges for about a week," he joked (no one ate oranges anymore, they were a rare commodity) and brought out a laser pointer. "Now you'll notice the eye here…"

The weatherman's report was cut off midway as the screen reverted back to the main reporter, a woman in a navy blue dress with ivory skin and straight brown hair. She held up a paper that had evidently just been placed on her desk. She scanned it quickly.

_What the hell is going on? _Iris wondered.

"We interrupt the weather for this breaking news report," the woman announced. "A town to the northeast of here-" (someone behind Iris shrieked, a glass shattered, followed by raucous laughter, and Iris couldn't hear) "-has been attacked by unknown arsonists."

"Turn it up!" Iris yelled to the bartender. She straightened up and gripped her empty glass tightly. The mountains they had shown earlier…she hadn't been paying close attention. _Could those have been the ones near my hometown? Near Solstice?_

"Hey! If you're gonna be rude you can find some other place to drink, lady," the bartender groused.

"Please!" Iris stood up. Maybe the bartender took her anxiety as a threat, but he grabbed the remote near the cash register. He turned the volume up and stood watching with his meaty arms folded. Several curious people gathered around her. The screen turned to aerial footage of homes and barns on fire, many of them already collapsed into smoking heaps.

The woman continued, "-attack was believed to have occurred approximately two hours ago. No casualties have been reported but we are still waiting for confirmation. Due to the town's remote location on the plains, word of the attacks had not reached the WRO until a few moments ago. The townspeople fear it may already be too late to send in additional help, but the WRO has dispatched relief teams. The fires haven't touched the wheat fields, as this appears to be a personal attack. But if help doesn't reach the town of Solstice soon, officials fear that the fires may spread to the crops."

The glass in Iris's hand shattered. She barely noticed as she spun around and pushed her way past the crowd, heading for the exit. One of the servers stepped in her way.

"Hey! You can't just leave here without paying!" He spread his arms.

Iris walked right past him, pushing him aside, her strength catching the server off guard. He was nearly knocked off his feet.

"Yo! Come back here!" he called.

Running out the door, she shouted back, "You don't understand! That's my hometown on fire!" Her panic had sobered what little of a buzz she had going. She jumped onto her bike and, fumbling with the startup button, she pressed it and the computer recognized her fingerprint. The bike started up with a buzz of electricity.

_Please_, she prayed, twisting the throttle, her bike bucking back onto the back wheel. _Let them be all right. Let my parents be all right._

The front wheel hit the ground and her bike shot towards the eastern highway like a frantic red jet.

* * *

><p>"Uhhhh….ahhhhoooahhhh…" Amon moaned. His head felt like it was about to split open. Most likely the fault of the sleeping gas, but he hadn't eaten in a long time, either. His right shin ached as well, and the sharpness at the center of the ache told him he had an open wound. He opened his eyes and sat up. He was in a cell, just big enough to fit the cot he was lying on, along with a plain metal toilet (seatless, oh joy) and a small space to walk around in.<p>

He pulled his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled up his pant leg.

"Ugh."

He let the pant leg fall back down. The blood had stopped, at least, but there was a six inch gash where…what happened? Oh yes, that asshole guard had spurred him with the toe of his boot. He looked at the door and…something felt incredibly wrong. Then it hit him.

"MY ARM!" Amon screamed aloud. His cybernetic arm lay at his side, still attached to his shoulder, but utterly useless.

"Shit…oh shit…" he grabbed at it with his living hand and ran his fingers along the metal workings that made up his tendons, feeling for the hidden reset button. He pressed it, but there was no response. Rather nasty of Zenith, the Turks, whoever had disconnected his arm from the rest of his body, but at least they had the decency to leave it on. Amon clutched at his upper arm to keep it still and shuffled over to the door, pressing his ear against the cool metal.

There was a slight vibration to the walls. Were they moving? The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, and not from the shock of discovering one of his arms was dead. He had a funny feeling that he wasn't on the ground.

"Great. I hate flying," he muttered, resting his forehead against the door. Hated flying almost as much as Iris hated small, enclosed spaces like the room he was in. Where was she? Was she all right? Probably home in her apartment, drinking.

_Nevermind her, what about you? How are you going to get out of this one, and with a busted arm?_

Since this wasn't his first time in a cell, he knew pacing and moping didn't do any good. Saving energy did. He lay back down on the cot, resting his good arm behind his head and stared up at the dull metal ceiling tiles. Images flashed behind his eyelids—the red materia glinting in the streetlight, that creepy chair in Lyall's office, Iris's face as he opened the lid to the box. Her face had been one of awe, and sadness. Maybe he should have kept the materia. After all…

"Oh, I'm a freaking idiot," he said aloud. Of course that materia meant a lot to Iris! After all, her ancestors used the summons materia to defeat Sephiroth. After the last battles of Cloud Strife's lifetime, it was said that he entrusted the materia to his friend, Yuffie, who hid it in a secret location. He'd heard stories about the Kisaragi Clan, a stealthy lot of ninjas and warriors with a pension for thievery and holding more than a lion's share of secrets. If the stories were true, Zenith must have been looking extra diligently for those little red spheres of power.

But what did Zenith really want with the summons materia? Why entrust such an important delivery to Strife services? And why hadn't Iris said anything about how important the materia was to her heritage? Did she figure he would know? No, she had said something like 'They must have used them…' Cloud and his friends traveled long and far to find the materia that aided them in saving the world. Each sphere was a powerhouse of spiritual energy, capable of summoning beings that could determine the outcome of combat, or even a war, in seconds. And he had delivered it right into the hands of a Turk. No wonder Iris had been pissed…any other kind of materia and she wouldn't have cared. But those were a direct link to her ancestors—something she didn't like to talk about.

He had to know what Zenith wanted with the materia. Odin knew, they weren't going to put it on display for the world in a museum. Why, why had he delivered it to them without thinking it through?

The answer made him grit his teeth. Fear of what would have happened if they had taken the materia had gripped him in the alley, he pictured the Turks and Z.I. after him and Iris. He and she, not knowing how to use materia, always on the run. Always looking over their shoulders, never knowing whether that group of strangers was just a group of strangers, or Zenith agents in disguise come to arrest them. Or worse.

Well, he wasn't going to find out why Zenith wanted the materia now, or any time soon. He was probably on his way to the desert prison out west. And that didn't settle with him at all. He shut his eyes and tried to get the image of endless sand dunes and a cruel sun, beating down relentlessly, out of his mind. He rubbed his mechanical arm absently with his good hand. His skin tingled where the flesh stopped and the metal began, just at the right shoulder blade. Or maybe he only imagined it.

* * *

><p>An unnatural orange glow emanated from the horizon. Iris knew she had reached Solstice when she saw the lights from the fires still gorging on her town. She descended a small hill, the only one nearby—this was grass plains territory, nothing but wheat fields as far as the eye could see. As she passed through the iron gates leading into the town proper, she caught glimpses of people clustered into groups, surveying the rubble of their homes. More than a few were on their knees with grief. Streams of black smoke rose into the air, and the smell of sulfur and burning wood was intense. It seemed that no home had been spared.<p>

On the edge of town, down a long dirt road, she passed several farmsteads, all of them also aflame or reduced to smoking ruins. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Why burn all of the homes? Was it a war move from a neighboring nation? Or was it some random act of anarchy?

She came to her family's driveway, with the red sign with gold lettering that read "Midway Chocobo Farms," only to see a blackened pile where her home used to be. The chimney was the only thing still intact, sticking up out of the pile like a white flag of surrender. She drove up to her home and leapt off her bike, running up to the still-burning rubble and shielding her face with her arm. The wind blew a wall of thick, black smoke and she coughed, doubling over in pain. The heat was almost unbearable. If anyone had been trapped inside, they were almost certainly dead…

She cupped her shaking hands and cried, "MOM! DAD!" The family barn, she saw to her horror, was also ablaze. Chocobos ran amuck through the fields, flapping their golden wings and squawking. All except one—a handsome male chocobo with blue-black feathers recognized her and trotted over. His shiny black eyes reflected the fire behind her, and she saw no fear in them, only a noble fierceness, and that was why he was her father's prized chocobo, Horus. Iris hugged the bird's thick neck and pressed her face into his silky feathers.

"Iris!" She spun around, and a man with thick black hair and a red plaid shirt ran towards her down the dirt driveway. She ran down to him, coughing and wiping tears from her eyes. He wore leather work gloves and his face was extremely tan, with intense blue eyes that glittered coolly at her. Seth was a thinner, taller, darker version of his son, Amon.

"What happened? Have you seen my parents?" she asked, wheezing.

"Easy, easy," Seth put his hands on her shoulders. "Take some deep breaths." He spotted her bruise. "You all right?"

"Just a, bruise, from earlier. What, about, my, parents?" she said between gasps.

"Your dad's okay. We pulled him out of the house before it collapsed," said Seth. "He took in a lot of smoke and got a few burns, but he's gonna be all right."

Iris stared at him blankly. "And mom?"

"Iris…" Seth said sympathetically.

"Where is she? Where's my mother?" She moved away from him.

Seth rubbed the back of his neck, which was blackened with soot. "We don't know. There wasn't nobody in the house with your dad. You'd best come talk to him," he said. Iris nodded and stumbled to her motorcycle. Seth stopped her from getting on and whistled at Horus, who trotted over to them, ruffling his feathers once.

"C'mon, kid, you're exhausted." He lifted her up onto the giant bird. Her pride flared up at her vulnerability, but she was too tired and shocked to protest. She clung to Horus's neck and they headed back into town. They found her father resting in an open area that had been temporarily set up as a clinic, with cots and a few tents. Her father, Gale Strife, lay on a cot with his left arm completely bandaged, as well as more wrappings underneath his unbuttoned shirt around his belly. His short, spiky blonde hair was caked with soot and dust, and one of his eyes was swollen shut.

Seth left them alone and went away with a group that was making one last sweep through the town to look for survivors.

"Hey, dad," Iris said somberly. "How you feelin'?"

Her father's one good, Mako-green eye rolled to look at her. "You came back," he rasped, then offered her a small smile, with great effort. "I see Horus took care of you."

Iris kneeled and rested her elbows on the edge of his cot. "Of course I came back." She shook her head, shutting her eyes. Gods, she was so tired. She said croakily, "I'm so sorry, dad. I should have gotten here sooner. I should have been here to help."

She felt his hand rest on the back of her head.

"Nothing you or anyone could have done," he said.

Before she could ask what he meant, a tall, muscular, bearded man with thick, black fighting gloves emerged from a nearby tent and said gruffly, "I can vouch for that."

"Master Kaito." Iris flushed and rose to her feet and bowed rigidly, holding up her right fist against her left palm, bringing them to her forehead. "I'm…sorry," she mumbled. "I failed to come to the aid of the town."

Master Kaito glared at her and grunted his disappointment. "What should one expect from one who runs away?" he said. Iris flushed a deeper red and struggled to hold her tongue. Hadn't she rushed at top speeds to get here? Hadn't she already taken a beating today and gone, despite of it? Neither of them had asked her about her bruise…

Kaito put one giant hand on his hip and glanced off to the side, his blue cloak blowing in a breeze that carried sparks and the scent of ash. She had never seen him this haggard, and realized he must have worked for hours lifting fallen timbers, dragging victims back into daylight. And there she had been, drinking, alone, feeling sorry for herself in a city far away.

He seemed to find some sympathy for her and added, "But this time it is not a question of fighting. You cannot fight what you cannot hit. Even if you had been here, you wouldn't have been much help."

Iris felt a pang of fear. If their village's greatest warrior had admitted they were powerless, what did that say about these attackers? "Dad, what does he mean?" she asked.

Gale Strife's good eye went glassy, as if he was staring at something up in the sky. For a moment she was struck with panic, thinking he had gone unconscious, but then he said tiredly,

"They broke into our house. They were dark, wearing black cloaks. I couldn't see their faces. I fought them, but they overpowered me. They moved like…like mist, but when they hit you, they were as solid as a rock. I asked them what they wanted, but they didn't say anything. Some of them went upstairs and found Alexa. They dragged your mother outside and took her with them. I tried to go after them, but they had done something to me. Some sort of spell. I was paralyzed. They shot fire from their hands and blasted the walls and the floor. I could only watch as the house burned down all around me." He coughed severely, blanching at the pain in his lungs. "Kaito and some others pulled me from the rubble of my own home. I owe your uncle my life."

Iris turned to Kaito, who had begun to help bandage another patient on the cot next to her father's. She was at a loss for words. And they seemed to be ignoring the biggest problem. "What about my mother?"

"They set the entire village aflame looking for her," said Master Kaito, lifting the unconscious man's arm to change a bandage soaked in blood and dead skin. Iris looked away. She knew she should be helping, but nurse work made her woozy.

Master Kaito continued, "No one's home was spared. And the fire is of magical origin. It doesn't spread, and it can't be extinguished regularly. We believe these invaders were using materia. Magical fire can only be extinguished immediately with an Ice materia. Otherwise, it must continue to burn until there is no more fuel. We're lucky our crops weren't destroyed. Or that would have meant death to us all."

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE FIELDS, OR PEOPLE'S HOUSES!" Iris burst angrily. Several men and women dressing the wounded shot her looks of disgust, but she didn't care. "Homes can be rebuilt! What about mom? What do these psychos want with her?" She gasped, realizing how stupid she was. "Wait, OH GODS—"

"Iris, be silent," her father ordered. But she had remembered something from earlier—a man's drunken ramble at a bar, and a disturbing sight while reentering the city. She stood up and said, wide-eyed,

"I saw them earlier today. When I was coming back from a delivery. They were leaving the city, headed east. Towards here."

Master Kaito knelt by her and grabbed her upper arm tightly. His grip was like the death squeeze of a python. "You're _certain_ of this?" he growled.

"I, er, well I dunno exactly." Kaito's grip tightened, and she blurted, "They had black on, and were driving in trucks and it looked like they had bodies or something in the back!"

"It must be the same people, then," said her father. "I heard trucks roaring when they left." He clenched his uninjured hand into a fist. "Damn them. What do they want with Alexa?"

"Well, it seems as though my niece knows more than I do," Kaito admitted. "Tell us what else you know, Iris."

And she told them about what she overheard earlier (excluding the fact that she was at a bar, trying to get drunk) about the Black Wings.

"Never heard of 'em," said Kaito, his expression darkening. "But if they're a cult, as you say, and they have your mother, then we had better find her fast."

"Does anyone know which direction they took off in?" her father asked.

"A few of my pupils went scouting after them," Master Kaito told them. The man on the cot moaned as Kaito rolled him onto his side. Angry yellow blisters ran down the man's naked back. "They should be back soon. On Bahamut's wings, I never would have thought something like this could have happened."

His words finally cut through Iris's shock. The severity of the day weighed in on her at last. The corners of her vision began to darken. The pain radiating from her stomach was sickening, and she doubled over, moaning.

"Hey, are you all right?" a woman nearby asked, rushing over to her. Iris tried to sit down, and fell to the ground instead. A roaring filled her ears, as if a tsunami of unconsciousness was flooding her mind. Then it crashed into her, and everything went black.

* * *

><p>She awoke to the perfume of an endless field of yellow and white flowers. No, not awake. This was one of those weird dreams where she knew she was asleep but wouldn't wake up right away. That was all right. Her body needed rest, and her mind needed an escape, too. She was floating. How could she float and lay in a field at the same time? Perhaps the flowers were growing in water…or a stream. She definitely heard flowing water.<p>

And there was a woman standing in the distance. She had long brown hair and a pink dress on, but Iris couldn't see her face. There was too much light.

_Thanks for saying hi to me earlier,_ said the woman. It was as if she was speaking right in her ear.

_ What? Who are you? _Iris asked.

The woman laughed gently. _Oh, just someone who looks out for you from time to time. You do a lot of risky things, you know, trying to prove you're tough. I see through your act. The running bet here is that your heart is not strong enough, and that you'll only hurt yourself and others. But I think differently._

_ Huh? Who says what? You're _betting_ on me?_

_ The words of a world in pain,_ said the woman, with a touch of sadness. _There is a lot of hurt coming, Iris. The world is in danger, and when it's hurting, it speaks._

Her words streamed through the flowers like a breeze. _Speaks…speaks…speaks…_

_ What can anyone do about it? _Iris asked, shutting her eyes. _The world is ending, there's no stopping that. Please, let me sleep._

She heard the sweep of cloth, and light footsteps on top of water. The woman was walking toward her.

_Only the sick should sleep_, said the woman. _Can you not hear the cries of the planet? Even now, it is saying how much it is hurting. Your mother can hear it. That's why they took her._

_ The Black Wings_, Iris said. _Why? Why do they want my mother?_

_ She was chosen. You know why. Her link to the Lifestream is strong. It calls through her, and she, in turn, called to them._

_ Are you saying my mom…wanted to be kidnapped? _Iris opened her eyes. There was the woman, but she was wreathed in white light, and she couldn't see her face. In fact, it was almost painful to look on her, so Iris shut her eyes instead.

_ Oh Iris,_ said the woman. _I'm so sorry. You have lived a sheltered life long enough. The time has come when we must forego our wants and do what is best for the survival of this planet._

_ You can't take her away,_ Iris cried. _She never did anything to anyone. It isn't fair!_

_ What is fair, and what is right,_ the woman said, _is sometimes the most painful thing a person can endure._

_ That doesn't mean I won't try and rescue my mother._

_ Indeed, everything depends on it_, the woman replied cryptically.

The floating sensation stopped, followed by a newer, unpleasant sense of falling. Iris was drifting away from the field, and from…

_AERIS? Aeris, is that you?_

_ Remember who you are, Iris,_ the woman said faintly. Her voice grew fainter every second, replaced with the rushing and roaring of the void.

_Everyone is counting on you. So no matter how difficult the path ahead may seem…no matter how unfair, how painful…remember, it is the only one you were meant to walk. We're still with you, Iris._

And with that, she dropped down into nothingness.


	5. Taken

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 5: Taken

Through the slit in the tent flap, all that remained of the sun was a red line on the horizon. Iris had slept through the entire day. The dream of the field, the flowers, and a woman with a voice like a bell dissipated like fog in sunlight. It _was_ only a dream, anyway, wasn't it? It had felt so real…the smell of the flowers, the flowing water, and Aeris's voice. If someone had asked her yesterday whether the goddess of mercy and life would ever visit her, she would have laughed in their face. The mind certainly did dream up some crazy things when the body was strained.

She had bigger things to worry about than a weird dream. Mom was missing, and she had to find her as soon as possible. One thing was certain—she wasn't getting anything done lying on a futon. The air was stifling hot inside the one-person tent. Hearing noises outside, she rose and emerged into the dim evening light. Walkways and main roads had been illuminated by flares and electric torches. Around her tent, several rows of clinic tents and cots had been set up. WRO medical personnel and volunteer nurses tended to the wounded. Five parked armored vehicles circled the center of town. WRO relief agents, wearing white and black uniforms and protective masks, labored in lines, carrying away rubble and debris. Not a single structure remained standing. The entire town, the place of her childhood memories, reduced to ash in just a day. She could barely comprehend it.

People on their way to the supply trucks gave her a wide berth. With her long, spiky blonde hair and crimson metal fighting gloves, she wasn't exactly hard to miss. She was one of the few people not covered in ash.

An elderly woman brushed past her and muttered something like "brat" under her breath. Iris ignored her and gave everyone plenty of room. She walked towards the center of town where temporary, one-family tents had been erected, totaling about 50 in all. She could see silhouettes of people in the ones that had lights on inside.

In the town square, where she could remember fairs and the annual Autumn Equinox festival, and tables overflowing with food, WRO workers distributed MREs (Meals Ready to Eat) to a long line of people from one of the white armored trucks. Her stomach growled and her hand touched her belly—someone had put an ice-fire patch on her bruise. The pain had subsided greatly. Several townspeople passed her on their way to the food line, most of them people she recognized, but they didn't say a word to her. She approached a group of older men. They acted as if she did not exist.

She wanted to eat, but she couldn't be seen taking food that belonged to the townspeople. Alone and afraid for her mother, she began to walk to the opposite, less-crowded side of town, when she spotted someone that made her sigh with relief. Seth, reclining on a blanket by a small (and well-controlled) cooking fire, spotted her and beckoned for her to join him. She sat down on a piece of charred timber. Normally, a fire would have been comforting, but Iris didn't know how Seth could bear sitting next to one now.

Several days' worth of gray stubble showed his age, and from the dark circles, he looked like he needed to sleep badly. He nodded at her and said "Welcome back."

"Y'know, you're the first person to say that to me," she said.

Seth shrugged. "What'd you expect, a red carpet entrance?"

"Ha, no. I just didn't think people would ignore me. Spit on me, call me names, maybe, but not act like I'm a ghost." She hugged her knees to her chest and added, "I'm glad I at least have you to talk to, Se-, er, I mean, Mr. Roth.

"Yes, well, I got nothing against you. I get flack for it from some of the townsfolk."

"Sorry," she said, flushing.

"Ahh, don't apologize. You tried to help Amon. If people had listened to you, he'd still have his arm. People 'round here have a tough time remembering that." Seth handed her a plastic tray with half the food contents still in it. "Here. You need to eat more, you've gotten thinner since I saw you last. What's it been now, nearly four years?"

She held up both hands politely. "No, I don't want t-"

"Please," he said, shoving the MRE tray at her, "It's the least I can do after what you did for my son."

That was that. Iris snatched it from him and crammed mashed potatoes into her mouth with her fingers. They tasted like boxed flour mixed with water, but she was so hungry she hardly cared about the taste. She shoveled the rest of the food in, roast beef and peas and gravy, slurping it all down in gulps.

Seth chuckled, then coughed hoarsely. "Still got bad table manners I see. Water?" He held up a canteen. Iris took a few gulps from it and handed it back to him. Her stomach was still twisting in knots, but that was for something other than hunger.

"Did Kaito's trackers come back?" she asked.

"Yes. They followed the trail of the trucks south of here, toward the mountains, but the trail got cold when they reached the swamps. We don't think they're headed for Midgar, though." He leaned forward to stoke the fire with a stick.

"Where, then?" Iris asked, hoping he had more information that just that. South meant anywhere…she needed specifics.

"Not sure," said Seth. "Better go talk to your father, maybe Master Kaito told him something. Or go talk to Kaito himself."

Iris stood up and bowed briskly. "Thank you for the food, Mr. Roth."

"Anytime, kid." Before she could walk away, he added, "Be careful. If you do approach Master Kaito, he isn't exactly in the mood to give out information. Leastwise you."

"Last time I checked, it was _my_ mother who was kidnapped, not his," Iris said darkly.

"In that case, go with Odin's blessing." Seth waved her off. She headed for her father's tent. She peeled back the tent flap and found him with his eyes closed, but at the sound of her footsteps he opened them, revealing the same faint Mako glow he had passed on to her. The glassiness in his eyes told her he was sedated.

She hid her disappointment and knelt by his side. She took the pink ribbon from around her own arm and began to tie it around his unburned arm.

"You…kept it on," he said between long, slow breaths.

"Some things never change," said Iris, finishing the knot. The pink ribbon jogged her memory. Something about her dream bothered her. She said hesitantly, afraid of sounding crazy, "Father, Aeris visited me in my sleep."

"What did she…have to say?"

Iris lowered her voice and said, "That the Black Wings want mom for her powers. Dad, the One Winged Angel, that's Sephiroth's nickname, right?"

"He has been known by that name, although I never believed they were the same person. Neither did your mother. The…Sephiroth of this world, merely a man, and the being that our ancestors fought at the North Cave…and again at Edge City. Not the same."

"Yeah, but the Black Wings worship the One Winged Angel, regardless of who that actually is," Iris pressed. "What if…what if they use mom to try and bring Sephiroth back?"

"We don't know their intent. Or even…if they're human. The only thing we can do is find her," he said. "Find her and find out."

"Dad, that's what I _want_ to do," said Iris tearfully. "But no one here trusts me anymore. I don't know where to begin and I…I need help."

For the first time in nearly four years, her father reached out and touched her, grasping her hand in his. He murmured something to soft for her to hear, so she brought her ear in close to his lips.

"_You_ must be the one," he said. "Find her…fast, before it is too late."

"Dad, what did the novices say? Where did they go?" Iris hissed, but his grip loosened and he fell back into a drugged slumber. She kissed his forehead lightly and whispered, "I'm sorry for everything. I promise I'll find mom."

She exited his tent, to find Master Kaito waiting for her outside. A group of twenty townspeople, some of them with white novice headbands and a few with pink ribbons around their arms (those who had progressed to higher levels) stood around them. Iris swallowed a lump in her throat and folded her arms.

"What is this, a town meeting?" she asked icily. When no one answered her, she said, "I am going after those freaks with or without anyone's help."

"Much is at stake. Your mother is a powerful mystic and now she is in the hands of those who wish to bring about the end of the world," Kaito said solemnly. "But you have disgraced the Megami no Ichizoku, the Goddess Clan, with your actions. You abandoned us for a life in the city with the runaway, Amon."

"I've heard enough of this crap," Iris spat. She spun around, but several novices blocked her path. The townspeople watching talked amongst themselves and the din was unsettling. "I'll take down anyone who gets in my way!" she warned.

"I will not let you leave and interfere with our search," Kaito asserted.

"SHE'S _MY_ MOTHER, GODS DAMN IT!" Iris shouted. "And I am leaving!"

"Please, Iris," one of the novices piped, a boy of about fourteen. "We don't wanna fight you."

"You can fight all of us," Kaito continued. "Or you can fight me. If you can best me, I will let you leave and search for your mother on your own."

"Yeah? Well I don't have time for this honor shit." Iris took a step toward the crowd. Master Kaito's hand enclosed her wrist. She spun around and aimed a punch at his face, which he dodged easily, releasing her arm.

"If it's a fight you want, fine! But I learned a thing or two during my time in the city." Iris slid into her fighting stance, bobbing on her feet. The townspeople cleared a ring for them.

"Tch. We shall see." Master Kaito thrust off his cloak. He easily towered over her by a foot and was nearly twice as wide as she was. Iris raised her fists in front as he charged her. His punches flew at her from all sides, his fists an angry swarm. She blocked, and blocked again, each time their gloves collided, the clang of metal sang in her ears. The whole time during the attack she hoped her inner panic wasn't visible in her face. Master Kaito's eyes, however, were stone cold and focused. That was the Lockhart in him—those relatives excelled at hand-to-hand combat. He pressed her towards the edge of the circle, attacking relentlessly. She sidestepped a low kick from him and swung an uppercut at his jaw. He swept her hand away like a fly and swung out, she ducked, and landed a solid punch to his chest.

"Umph!"

Kaito stepped back just slightly. He recollected before she could land another punch to his face, catching her arm with both hands. Iris yelled and jumped, digging her heel into his gut, forcing him back. She spun around and ran to the other end of the circle with him thudding after her, used the momentum from her run to kick her way up a telephone pole, and back flipped over him.

_Got him now!_

She landed behind Kaito and struck him in the lower back with her elbow. Master Kaito grunted and fell to one knee.

"Haaaaaaa!" Iris prepared to deal the finishing blow, a kick that would knock him out. All her rage and fury went into it. With distant horror she realized she had put _too_ much force into it—she was going to break his neck. At the last second, she balked. Kaito spun and launched off the ground. Her leg flew past his head, he grabbed her shoulders, and threw her to the ground. The impact was like jumping directly into the path of an oncoming vehicle. She collapsed onto her back, stars exploding in her vision, her head throbbing, arms splayed above her head. If he had used excessive force, it would have been a complete KO.

Kaito stood above her, his fist near her temple, his other poised in the air to strike.

"When you aim to kill, you always lose." he said throatily. "If you try to leave here, I will stop you again." And, picking his cloak up, he tossed it over his shoulders and stormed away. The townspeople murmured and a few of the novices moved toward Iris, but their elders grabbed them and steered them away. The crowd dispersed. Iris pressed her face into the crook of her elbow, blinking back tears. Her entire body was hot with shame.

"Not fair," she muttered, closing her eyes. "How in Hades am I gonna get out of here?"

* * *

><p>She got her answer when an airship flew over the prairie, causing the wheat fields to buck and sway. The craft landed in a nearby vacant field, a few stray farm animals and chocobos running in fright. The ramp stretched down and out from the ship's side as the hull door swung open.<p>

"Turks!" someone shouted. People babbled all around her.

"What the hell are they doing here?"

"They're not part of the WRO!"

"We should stay back!"

Iris shot up, energized by all the fervor. She bounded over to the ship. The design was sleek, shaped vaguely (to her, anyway) like a dragonfly, with twin, curved wings on each side, the undersides lined with the electric blue panels that pushed against gravity, causing the air beneath them to vibrate, and landing gear consisted of prim, metal pairs of legs ending in wheels. The head of the ship had a round glass window, tinted aquamarine, and cut off at the top, giving her the impression that it was laughing maliciously at her.

An equally sleek man dressed in white stepped down the ramp and surveyed her ruined town as if he'd strayed into a bad part of the neighborhood. His expression was one of boredom and disdain for these simple "country folk."

"Is there an Iris Strife among you?" he called out, speaking slowly, as if they were all a bunch of dolts.

Kaito had arrived on the scene. He made a grab at Iris, but she darted over to the Turk, shouting, "Here! I'm here."

The man had one hand in his pocket, the other swept a stray piece of jet-black hair back into place.

"Lyall Vulpine, of the Turks," he introduced. Iris stopped short of him a few yards and placed her hands on her hips.

"And? What do you want with me?" she demanded.

Lyall strode up to her, but she held her ground. He was tall, lean, and his eyes were deep, dark, slanted, and not altogether human. He spoke again, revealing the tips of pointed canines, and said so only she could hear, "You are a picture of the past. You know you have Cloud's hair and eyes? And Tifa's face…"

"Whatever. I don't even want to know why you know that," she huffed.

"That's common knowledge, silly girl."

Iris clenched her fists, restraining herself from wiping that smirk off his face. "You work for Zenith, right?"

"That's what it says on my paycheck, sweetheart," he sneered. He held out his hand when she glared balefully at him. "No need for theatrics, Iris. Why don't you come with me? I have some questions for you."

"Not until you answer me this—what does Zenith want with the summons materia?" she asked.

Lyall put his hand down and raised his cunning eyebrows. She couldn't gauge if he had been expecting such a question, but her instincts told her he had.

"I can't answer that right now. But, perhaps we can help each other," he proposed.

"I ain't interested unless you answer me NOW."

He sighed with disappointment. "Mmm. You know, you really don't have a choice. President Mercer has ordered you arrest."

"My arrest? For what?"

"Tampering with a top secret delivery, of course," he said, shaking his head. "Didn't you just admit that you looked? I expected better from a Strife."

"Fuck you!" She raised her fists.

"Iris don't. Come back!" Kaito called.

"Say I do go with you," she started, turning her back on Master Kaito and switching to her Neo Midgar slums accent, "What do you want? Cuz I don't trust no Turks."

Lyall laughed derisively, flashing his sharp canines. "That Wall Market bartering voice is very unconvincing. Here, let me show you how it's done." He cleared his throat and said, with a flare of menace, "Either you come with me, nice and easy, or we'll electrocute your friend. Oh, and we'll make you watch."

Iris looked at him in horror. "WHAT?"

He said into his headset, "Azazel, let them see the prisoner."

A compartment beneath the body of the ship swung open and something fell down, hanging by a rope.

"Shit!" she gasped. Amon hung in midair, trapped in a net like the catch of the day, his hands tied behind his back.

"Iris!" he shouted. "Don't go with 'em!"

A gun extended from the belly of the ship and aimed at him.

"You have to the count of five," Lyall told her. "One."

The townspeople weren't budging. Seth broke past them, screaming, "Amon? AMON!"

"Two."

"Dad!" Amon croaked. "Stay back!"

"Three."

Seth was by Iris's side. "Let him go, you asshole!"

"Four."

What could she do? If they took her prisoner there was no way she could search for her mother. If she stayed, they were going to kill her best friend. She let loose a frustrated cry and gripped at the roots of her hair. The gun's ray charged into a blue sphere of deadly electricity. Amon was shouting something but the people behind Iris were all chattering too loudly for her to hear.

"Fi-."

"NO!" Iris screamed. She walked over to Lyall. "Let him go. Take me, just let him go," she mumbled, her lip trembling slightly.

Lyall smiled, his dark eyes flashing briefly. "Good." Something black and pointy poked out from his shirt collar. Before Iris could move, a long, black, misty tendril of darkness shot out and whipped her across the belly, tearing off the ice-hot patch with its force. Iris lost her breath and crumpled to her knees. Cries of shock and surprise sounded out behind her, but no one came to her aid. She glanced at Kaito through eyes squinted near-closed in pain, but he may as well have been carved from stone. Lyall muttered something into his headset. Two more Turks, a man and a woman dressed in blue suits, came running out of the hovercraft. They took to either side of Iris, forced her hands behind her back, and slapped a pair of cuffs on her.

"Okay, you got me," Iris told them. "Now let him go!"

"As you wish." Lyall grinned and snapped his fingers. The net broke free of the ship, plummeting Amon a good ten feet. He landed with a dull thud, but the soft prairie soil broke most of his fall. He groaned once and wiggled, trying to get up. Seth bolted, long legs pumping, and was at his side.

The male Turk looked at Lyall and said, "Let's get outta this dump and go get a drink."

"This is my hometown, you fuck!" Iris snapped. "And in case you didn't notice, it's been scorched off the face of the earth. Have some respect!"

"Cornbread eatin' redneck," the man muttered. He jerked her arm and a spasm of pain shot through her shoulder.

"Easy, Ace. We don't want to damage the specimen." Lyall stepped forward and grasped Iris's chin in his long fingers, tilting her face upward. He gazed into her eyes, inspecting something that she couldn't identify. His closeness made her uncomfortable, and she tried to move, but the other Turks gripped her tightly. She could only glare at him—it was then she noticed the welt under his right eye, a red blemish on an otherwise perfectly sculpted cheekbone. She chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Lyall asked, frowning.

Iris said smartly, "Nothin'. It just looks like Amon whooped your ass before you got him. Sorry I couldn't do the same."

Lyall's fingers pressed hard, sliding down to cup her throat.

"I would watch that mouth of yours. Where you're going, a dirty mouth can be very, very bad for your health."

He tapped her throat once for emphasis and let go. Iris winced as the other two Turks dragged her towards the ramp. She craned her neck past the woman holding her to her right and saw Amon, leaning against his father. The rest of the town still stood back, with Master Kaito and his pupils forming a line between the Turks and the village. It was clear they didn't want to be involved in this. Iris knew Kaito would only step in if the Turks attacked the villagers.

Amon yelled hoarsely, "I'll come back for you!"

"Heh, fat chance of that," the male Turk, Ace, laughed in her ear. They led her up and into the ship, and the ramp lifted behind them.

"I swear, I'll come back!" Amon shouted from somewhere below them. Then the ramp slammed shut, cutting off Amon, cutting off Solstice. Iris didn't know how long it would be until she saw the outside world again. Perhaps that had been her last glimpse of freedom. She was just sorry it had to be there, of all places—the town she spent her entire childhood trying to escape.

They led her down a hall and shoved her into a windowless cell with nothing in it. She heard the door's automatic lock seal shut and she lay down on the floor. Her body ached again, the few hours of slight relief she had felt only a bittersweet memory. She rubbed her abdomen and curled into a ball.

_I'm sorry, mom_, she thought. _But I don't know how I'm getting out of this one._


	6. The Unexpected Guest

Chapter 6: The Unexpected Guest

Ten Wallace sat down at the dinner table, straining to hear the radio broadcast for the first time in days, but he ended up listening to his two children arguing in the other room instead.

"Nathan! I need the Highwind! You play with your Z.I. action figures!"

"No way Rina! That's _my_ airship. You can have yer stinky old Zee soldiers!"

"I'll trade you my Cait Sith action figure for it."

"Nope."

"Awww come on, look how cute the lil' cat guy is. And he talks!"

"He's STUPID and UGLY!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yeah huh!"

"AY!" Ten shouted, pounding his fist against the tabletop. "I'm tryin' to relax in here!"

"Don't throw that! Ow!" A little boy with a veil of puffy black hair came running in, followed by his older sister, who played with her braided pigtails—her sure expression of guilt.

"Daddy!" Nathan tugged on Ten's trench coat. "Rina threw Cait Sith at me!"

He pointed to his arm, the sight of the war crime. Rina jumped forward.

"He's a liar, Daddy! I didn't throw nothin'."

"Hush up!" Ten ordered, and Rina fell silent. He lifted Nathan onto his lap and surveyed him from head to toe. "Boy, I don't see no bruise. You straighten up, y'hear? Can't have no crybabies in the WRO!"

"Yes sir!" Nathan said, giving his best salute with puffy eyes.

"Now you learn to share with your sister," Ten said in his "preaching father" voice, putting his son on the floor. "That's how your great granddaddy and Cloud and the rest of AVALANCHE ever got anything done—sharing and teamwork. And YOU little lady…"

Rina gulped. Ten waved for her to come closer. She stepped forward hesitantly. He put one hand on the top of her head and said, "No throwin' things at your brother. Say you're sorry."

"But I ain't thrown nothin'!" Rina squealed.

"LIAR!" Nathan wailed, pointing to the evidence—a face-down Cait Sith figurine on the rug.

"NUH UHHHH!"

"Liar-liar-liar pants on fire!"

Ten threw his hands into air in defeat. He switched off the radio and rested his forehead against his palm, a vein in his forehead popping out. The childrens' argument escalated to a full-on shouting match of the best insults the five and seven-year-old could muster.

"Mog turd!" Nathan shouted.

"JENOVA FACE!" Rina screeched.

"AWW, YA'ALL BETTER SHUT UP BEFORE I GO NUTS!" Ten bellowed.

"THAT. IS. IT!" a female voice yelled from the other room. The children quieted down when a tall, willowy woman with light brown skin walked in. Her hair, separated into many tiny braids, was fastened into a messy bun, which bobbed as she stepped. "What's all this racket? It's nearly dinnertime and I don't want no fightin'!" The woman crossed her arms over her pumpkin-colored tank-top. She raised an eyebrow at her husband. "Ten, what's goin' on?"

"Well Gene, looks like no one wants to play with Cait Sith," Ten said with a snort. "I think we're ok now, RIGHT? Otherwise, NO DESSERT." he threatened, eyeing both children weightily. Nathan and Rina looked at one another. This changed the stakes dramatically. A truce was now the more logical option.

Nathan saluted again. "Yes Daddy."

Rina nodded. "Um hum."

Ten set Nathan down and waved at the living room. "Good. Now go play NICELY. Dinner ain't ready yet."

The two children scampered off. "Hum. They argue like another two brats I know," Ten muttered.

"Yeah, 'cept our kids act their age," Gene said pointedly, lifting a lid off the pot on the stove and adding a bowl full of beef cubes to the stew she had cooking.

"That real meat?" Ten asked hopefully.

Gene hovered in front of the open refrigerator. "Yes indeed."

"What's the special occasion?"

Gene smiled at him as she took out a pitcher of water and set in on the table. "I sold some extra bike parts at Wall Market today. Economy's gotten better since those Black Wing punks left."

"Hmph. 'Bout time. Those freaks had no right to around preachin' about the end of the world. Folks got enough to worry about." Ten opened a cabinet above the sink and took out four glasses and four plates. The ceramic dinnerware had etchings of chocobo tracks and the town of Corel, which was rebuilt to its original size by the end of Barrett's lifetime after the WRO took an interest in the town's coal supplies.

"Uh-oh hun. Better grab another plate," Gene said out of the corner of her mouth, looking out the front window.

"Huh?" Ten peered over her shoulder just as Amon ran up to the door, his motorcycle parked out front. His cybernetic arm was in a sling and his face was bruised. Something worried Ten about him, enough for him to place his hand on his wife's shoulder before she could go answer the door. He went over instead, out of the kitchen and crossing the living room. Rina and Nathan had disappeared upstairs. He made sure they weren't at the top of the stairs before he opened the door. Amon stood, his good arm clutching his side, breathing heavily, his black hair plastered to his forehead and neck.

"Good Gods, man," Ten muttered. "What'n the hell's happened? You ain't never clocked outta work, and left me close up shop on my own, and then I don't hear from you the next day."

"I can explain all that later," Amon said, panting. Then, in a lower voice, "Iris has been taken by the Turks. And Alexa's been kidnapped by the Black Wings. And…and my hometown was razed to the ground."

Ten's eyes widened. "Your dad...Iris's parents..."

"No one was killed, thank the gods," Amon added. "But Iris and her mother…" He clutched at his hair with his good hand, locking his fingers in the roots.

Ten muttered, "That's enough. Anyone could be listening. Come inside." He shut the door behind Amon, headed back into the kitchen, and pulled out a chair for his friend. Amon sat down and sighed gratefully.

"Hey Amon!" Gene greeted from over her shoulder. "Hope you're hungry. We're just sitting down to-" she stopped when she saw Amon's face. Normally good-natured and quick to smile, the young man before her had two days' stubble of beard on him and dark circles under his eyes, plus a nasty bruise covering his left eye, and another on his collar bone. He was normally quite tan, but his skin seemed pallid, as if he hadn't eaten in a long time. She turned to her husband for an explanation.

"Solstice was attacked. And it looks like Iris has run into trouble," Ten told her. She nodded once, pursed her lips, and stirred her stew with extra force, sloshing some over the side of the pan. She cursed under her breath. Iris was not her favorite person—she didn't like a wild girl like that around her children, and Ten sometimes brought them to the shop with him. Her instincts told her trouble was afoot, and she wanted no part in it. That went double for Ten.

Amon poured himself a glass of water and gulped it down, then said to Ten, "Please. You gotta help me. I dunno who else to turn to."

"Whoa," Ten said, "Take it easy. Let's eat first. You look like you're about to faint. And what happened to yo arm?"

"I ain't gonna faint," Amon said, bristling a little. "Oh, and this?" He lifted his cybernetic arm and dropped it with a thud on the table, which elicited a glare from Gene. He smiled wanly. "Courtesy of the Turks."

Ten massaged his temples and shut his eyes, his vein starting to protrude again. "Turks, huh? You really in some deep shit this time."

"You dunno the half of it, Ren-Ten."

"Oh, I can guess," Ten said, leaning back. "You opened the box, didn't you?"

"What box?" Nathan piped suddenly, running into the kitchen. He didn't realize he had stolen the words right out of his mother's mouth.

Ten's head whipped around to stare at his son, his dreadlocks swinging. "Nathan! What did I tell you about eavesdroppin'?"

Nathan bounded over to Amon, who tousled the boy's thick hair affectionately. "Sorry dad." He glanced at Amon's arm. "Amon, how you gonna bust bad guys with your mecha arm all broken?"

"I'm hopin' your dad can help me get it fixed," Amon said, looking past Nathan at Ten. "Shouldn't take too long, right boss?"

"One thing at a time," Ten grunted. "First, eat. Then, tell." He yawned loudly and stretched. "Aaaauuugh! This is gonna be a looooong week, I can feel it."

_Not as long as it will be for Iris,_ Amon thought. _Please, be okay.  
><em>

_Please,_ Gene prayed to Shiva, _Don't let him take Ten away. _Her hand strayed to her belly, which hadn't started to protrude and was still a closely kept secret. She dug into the pocket of her apron, brought out a spatula, and fried up some eggplant while Ten and Amon talked in low voices. Nathan had gone back into the living room, where he updated Rina excitedly.

"Amon's arm is busted and he looked at a box and now Iris is in trouble!" Nathan chattered in Rina's ear.

"Maybe the box had treasure inside," Rina whispered back.

"Daddy knows. He know'd everythin'."

"That's 'knows,' dummy."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"SHADDAP!" Ten roared from the kitchen. The children giggled and darted upstairs, Nathan holding his Highwind model aloft.

"Vrooooom! AVALANCHE's gonna save the world!" he yelled. "Here comes Captain Cid to get Cloud!"

"Wait for me!" Rina called, running after him with Tifa and Aeris dolls in her hands. "You can't win without us!"

"I don't need no stupid girls!" Nathan said, blowing a raspberry. He ducked into his bedroom as his sister reached the top of the stairs.

"That's not how the story goes!" Rina said bossily, cheeks flushed. "Where'd you go, Captain Cid?"

"Not Cid! I am the Evil Sephiroth!" Nathan charged out of his bedroom, swishing a gray foam sword back and forth. "Die, Ancient!" He karate chopped at her with his newfound weapon, aiming for the Aeris doll that Rina held behind her back. His sister retreated a little, not wanting to get poked in the eye or whacked on the head by the Evil Sephiroth, when a noise from outside caught her attention. It was coming from beyond the front door.

"I SUMMON METEOR!" Nathan cried triumphantly, pointing to the ceiling with his sword.

"Shut up a second!" Rina shushed. She snuck to the edge of the stairs, Nathan (Evil Sephiroth) crouched next to her.

"What's that noise?" he asked. The floorboards began to vibrate. Rina grabbed him and ran down the stairs, practically dragging her brother by the collar of his shirt.

"Daddy!" Rina called, and squealed in fright as the floor bucked beneath her feet, throwing her to the ground. The shaking intensified and the house moaned and creaked. Inside the kitchen, the pots and pans rattled, and Gene frantically turned off the stove and rushed into the living room. She scooped up Nathan, her husband right behind her, who took Rina in his wide arms. The girl buried her face in his coat, crying.

"Shhh, it's okay," Ten hushed. He stumbled a little—the floorboards were shaking violently now. Amon, fleeter than others despite his decommissioned arm, ran ahead and flung the door open.

"What is it? An earthquake?" Ten shouted.

"Dunno! But we gotta go outside!" Amon yelled, and they followed him out into the open street. He didn't know how he knew, it was merely instinctive. Gene hunkered down with Nathan and Ten joined her, the four of them forming a tight circle. Amon stood up as the street rocked like gelatin beneath his boots. The houses and shops around them swayed and Amon grew dizzy watching them, so he stared at ground level. People darted out of their homes, their shocked cries drowned out in the earthquake's din. Shingles plummeted off of rooftops, dust clouds rose up from cracks, trashcans rattled beneath their lids. A gray cat shot out of an alleyway and bolted down the sidewalk.

Nathan clung to his mother's shirt. "What is it, mom?"

"I dunno baby. Close your eyes, it'll be over soon," Gene answered, stroking his hair and grasping Ten's hand tightly. She raised her eyes to his, and he didn't look away. The tremors grew less intense, but they remained huddled to the ground until it was over. When the vibrations stopped, the people around them had the same expressions of confusion and relief on their faces as they did.

"This has never happened before," Amon said.

"I'll be flipped by Titan" Ten swore. "What the hell's this world coming to?"

"Language!" Gene hissed, covering her childrens' ears. "Why don't you go and get the radio?"

Ten got up, said "I'll be right back" and ran inside the house. He came out with the radio and clicked it on. There was nothing but static. The Wallace's neighbors heard the noise and came over, forming a circle around them. They listened with bated breath as the NMNN theme song chimed on.

"This is a Neo Midgar News Network emergency announcement!" came a woman's voice. "A mild earthquake has struck all districts of the city. So far only negligible damage has been reported, and no casualties. It is now safe to return to your homes. Please report all damages to the proper WRO authorities."

"Negligible my ass," a man grumbled. "Gonna smash up my house and report it, then maybe I can finally get me a new kitchen."

"Get outta here with your foul mouth," Gene told him. "Go on, shoo!"

Amon and Ten shot him baleful looks. The man shrugged and left. The circle of people disbanded. The citizens of Neo Midgar rarely concerned themselves with the affairs of the outside world. A few stragglers remained, curious to hear the rest of the announcement, including a young couple in their 20s and an old man with his grandson.

"Turn it up, sonny," the old man asked Amon. Amon adjusted the dial as the announcement continued:

"This just in: Officials suspect the epicenter of the quake to have occurred from the Northern Continent, with the focal point being somewhere beneath the ruins of the Ancients, also known as the Forgotten Capitol. Zenith is sending officials to the continent now for an investigation, as contact with Bone Village—the world's largest excavation site— has been cut off."

"They were pokin' around where they don't belong," the old man chimed in.

"Oh grandpa, you and your conspiracy theories," his grandson sighed.

Amon couldn't remember much about Bone Village, but he had a rotten feeling in his gut. First the materia, then his 'vacation' with the Turks, then Iris, and now this. Some beast was definitely stirring from its slumber. For the time being, he decided he would worry about his arm and breaking Iris out. Wherever she happened to be. All he saw in the back of his mind was her face turning toward him as the Turks manhandled her into their ship. She was afraid, although not for herself. Her mother was missing. As long as Iris had her mother to worry about, she would be strong. But time was ticking, and fast. No, time was slipping straight through his fingers.

Gene shuddered and interrupted his thoughts. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" She sighed heavily, rested her chin on top of Nathan's head, and closed her eyes.

Ten hugged her close. "Ey, it's probably nothin'," he said, shooting Amon a look over his wife's head that showed he was just as concerned as Amon.

_Liar_, Amon mouthed to him.


	7. Nox

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 7: Nox

The ride in the Turks' hovercraft was one of the longest of Iris's life. The cell they had thrust her in, devoid of even a toilet, was dark, cramped, and uncomfortable—oddly enough, it reminded her of when she had hid in her toy box as a kid, and one of the village boys had sat on top of the lid, trapping her there, shrieking and rocking against walls, for thirty minutes before her father came to her rescue. But she hardly cared about the Turks' lack of consideration for their prisoners' comfort. Every second that ticked by was another she could have spent searching for her mother. As she sat crouched in the corner of her cell, listening to the inner workings of the airship—the hum of the wires, the air hissing through valves, the distant thrumming of some moving part—she felt as though she had been swallowed by a giant organism, and was now in the process of being digested. If there was anything she hated more than losing a fight, it was being trapped in darkness.

At first, like when she was a kid trapped in that toy box, she had been tempted to pound against the walls, seeking out weaknesses in the metal. Maybe there was something they missed—a loose screw, a rusted patch, a curious guard who might open the door. These were only the pointless wishes of a claustrophobe. Ten had told her once that if she was ever captured, she had to save as much energy as possible until she made a break for it. Amon had told her that, too. So she bit her lip, hunkered down in the backmost corner, and waited.

The feeling of powerlessness was more disheartening than seeing Solstice burned to the ground. She hated waiting to see what the Turks had in store for her, which anyone who knew Zenith could tell you, it was never anything good. She tucked her knees up against her chest, her arms still cuffed behind her back. They had gone numb all the way up to her shoulders. In her head, she kept apologizing to Amon and her mother, and to her father and the people of Solstice. If she hadn't looked inside that box, she and Amon would have been free to go. The Turks would not have come for her, and she could have started after her mother. Because of her own stupidity, Amon had been captured, and now they had traded places.

_But I had to know. I had to look. Why?_

Her father's bandaged form surfaced in her mind. Had he forgiven her for what she had done three years ago, or was he merely distracted by the attack and her mother's kidnapping? Master Kaito certainly hadn't forgotten, nor had any of the villagers. Perfectly kind people that she used to know had pretended she was a stranger. Well, what did she expect when she had vanished to live in the city?

_It's not my fault, not entirely_, she told herself, squeezing her knees together tightly. _They're so obsessed with tradition in Solstice. They spend so much time looking at the past that they're too stupid to see what's right under their noses._

The only person who hadn't been like that was her mother. Iris thought of her mother's long brown hair, kind smile, and gentle hands that worked with the soil in their garden. All creatures were equal in her mother's eyes, the weak and the powerful. She understood that not everyone was meant to fight. If only her father had thought that, too. Maybe she would have still been living in Solstice and could have done something about the Black Wings.

She sat up straight as she footsteps. The door slid open, letting in bright white light. As she looked up, someone shot a type of tear gas in her eyes. Her vision went black. She started writhing, but the click of a gun made her stop.

"That's a good girl," came Lyall's voice from the doorway. "Just cooperate and it'll be easier on you."

"What did you do to me?" Iris asked, her eyes watering.

"A minor precaution is all," Lyall explained, almost jovially. She wished he had been closer so she could sweep one of his legs out from under him and knock him off his high horse. "Can't have you seeing where we're taking you, after all," he added smoothly. "Don't worry, it'll wear off in an hour or so."

Someone else, presumably whoever had sprayed her, grabbed one of her arms tightly (she was guessing it was the one they called 'Ace') and yanked her to her feet. They escorted her out of the cell and down the ramp, but after that, she was clueless as to where she was going. They walked straight for quite some time before turning a hard corner.

"Don't see what Professor Nox wants with this scrawny brat," Ace said. Iris knew better than to react to his taunt. She was trying to listen. So far she could hear distant machinery, and people talking. The Turks' shoes clacked against the floor, which sounded like metal or linoleum. So they were in some kind of building.

"No more talking, Ace," Lyall ordered.

"Sorry boss."

_Could I be at Zenith Headquarters, in Deepground?_ she thought. That would certainly explain all the secrecy. She sincerely hoped not—if that was the case, Amon was going to have a hell of a time finding her there. She'd heard stories about the security being so tight that the employees would stay for months to work before they were granted clearance to go back into the real world. Some of them worked full-time underground. What kind of insane person would forfeit their freedom for a company?

More corners, and then an elevator, going down. When they emerged onto this floor, Iris could smell hospital chemicals—cleaning products and solvents and something more sinister, like formaldehyde. She didn't need her eyes to tell her she was in some kind of medical ward, or perhaps a lab. Check three on her list of things she hated—hospitals. The Turk guiding her must have sensed her discomfort. Ace's fingers were not unlike Kaito's around her arm—tight as a vice. She'd had enough manhandling for one day.

"Y'know guys, I'm pretty disappointed with the hospitality of this place," Iris said. "I'd like to check out now."

She felt Ace's grip intensify, and for a second she thought he was going to crush her arm. But his grip relaxed as Lyall said, "Oh, but there's no checking out once you check in. Don't worry, we're leaving you in good hands."

Iris grumbled, "Somehow I doubt that." She lashed out with her foot, slamming Ace in the upper thigh, dangerously close to his groin. Breaking free of his grip, she spun around and ran for it, recounting her steps. But something was wrong. They weren't chasing after her. She kept running, she made it down the next hallway, but then…

SLAP! Something cracked her across the face, like a whip. She saw stars (ironically enough, since she was blinded) and blood began to rush to her head, making her lose her balance. She began to tip over when a steady pair of lean arms caught her beneath her armpits. She could smell Lyall's cologne, something light but musky, and it only amplified her impression of him as a wolf in disguise.

She heard him snarl, close to her ear, "Stupid girl. Pull that again and see what happens."

Iris craned her ahead around and spat at him, but her aim must have been off. She heard her saliva hit the wall behind her. Ace yanked on her hair, pulling her head down.

"Don't disrespect the Turks," he growled, then released her.

Lyall helped her back onto her feet, and for a moment they stopped, Iris breathing somewhat heavy, with Lyall holding her up from behind. A few seconds ticked by and they still weren't moving. Fear gripped her momentarily and she began to wriggle against Lyall's grip. He spun her around, she lashed out with a kick, only to have Ace's arms lock her own in a submission hold. Lyall's gloved hand gripped her throat as he had done back in the field in Solstice, and she felt warm breath against her cheeks. Even blinded, she could sense that he was staring at her eyes.

"It's a real shame this specimen is so important," Lyall said in a softer voice, one Iris didn't care for. Ace laughed under his breath and pressed in behind her, this time close enough to make her squirm.

"Lemme go," she said through clenched teeth "You fucking bastards. You don't understand…I have to find my mother!"

Both men laughed as if she had just recited the best joke of the year. Her face burned, and not from the spray. Ace loosened his hold on her and stepped back, jerking her around and pushing her forward.

"Ladies first," he said. "And no crap this time, otherwise you'll find out what a face full of mace feels like."

_If I do get out of here, I'm going to kill his stupid ass,_ Iris seethed. They continued walking, until, at long last, she heard electronic chirps, buzzing machines, and clattering keys and came to the conclusion that she was definitely in a lab. Someone walking on heels headed towards them and stopped.

"Tsk tsk, gentlemen," came a soft female voice, very refined, with a light accent Iris didn't recognize. "She looks awful. I thought I said to treat her delicately?"

Ace started to speak, but Lyall interrupted, saying, "She gave us some resistance. We had no choice but to sedate her."

"Do relax, Mr. Vulpine. I assure you that my report to President Mercer will have nothing but four-out-of-four stars." The woman chuckled lightly. She had a commanding tone to her voice, as though she was used to always getting her way. Iris sensed a manipulator—check number four, manipulative people.

"Thank you, Professor Nox," Lyall said stiffly. "If you'll excuse us, we'll escort her to her cell."

"Just a minute. I want to have a look at her," the woman said.

"Of course" Lyall replied, but Iris heard impatience in his voice. The woman's heels clicked again and Iris sensed a new body standing in front of her. She had no perfume on, but Iris thought she smelled bleach. Ace held onto her from behind; if she so much as twitched, he could have her on the ground in a split second.

"Well that's interesting," the woman, Professor Nox, mused. She was waiting for Iris to respond, but she wasn't going to comply. Iris bowed her head slightly, letting her hair hang in her face.

"Don't feel like talking?" she continued. "Well, that's fine. We don't need you to talk. Not right now at least. I just want to be sure." A set of cold hands clamped down on Iris's face, forcing her eyelids open. Fresh tears streaked out of her irritated eyes, but she could start to make out shadows, including the one cast by the woman as she hovered in front of her face. The woman said, "The Mako seems to have passed down from generation to generation. And she is a spitting image of her predecessors, despite five generations of breeding. Cloud's hair and Tifa's features."

"Yeah, that's really fascinating," Ace grunted. "Can we get a move on, lady? Our shift's almost up."

The woman paused in icy silence. "Certainly," she said. "But she isn't going to the cell. Take her to Lab B, Section 12."

"Ma'am, that's against our orders," Lyall told her.

"And President Mercer also told you to do what I asked. Did you miss that memo?"

"No ma'am."

"Then do as I tell you, or do you want me to report you to Bylet'h?"

"That won't be necessary," Lyall said.

The Turks took her down another hallway. When they entered the next room, Iris's vision had come back a little. She could see something large and light blue, a void of floating liquid. Liquid that shined with some kind of radiant teal light, beautiful yet poisonous. A strange feeling washed over her—she no longer felt pain, fatigue, or hunger. She seemed to hover out of her own body, as she sometimes did in her dreams.

"Hey, what's wrong with her?" Ace asked, holding her up as she sagged in his arms like a pale, blonde doll.

"The Mako is having an effect. Don't worry, it's contained, so it can't hurt us. But the Mako in her DNA is reacting to the Mako in the tank." Iris heard Nox approach from behind. Something pricked her arm, but she hardly noticed. She was so tired…all that mattered was sleep.

Nox called over several lab attendants, who brought over a gurney and laid Iris down on it. She dismissed the Turks, who took one last look over their shoulders and left quickly. Iris felt cold metal against her skin. Someone was cutting off her clothes.

"Don't, do that," she mumbled, pushing hands away weakly. But off came the clothes, and then someone wheeled her over, toward the glowing liquid. She grumbled and moaned protests—she feared the light, but it was calling to her. Was she dying? Was that the light's purpose, to lure her home? Tiny cold spots grew on her skin, around her temples, her heart, her lungs.

A lab attendant stuck electrode patches on her. "Place her in the tank," Professor Nox ordered. Iris tipped forward and slid into the blue void. Ice and fire shot through her veins. Every muscle turned to crystal, with razor edges tearing her apart from the inside. Her paralyzed body wouldn't obey her brain. Her ears filled with a kind of eerie, organic static—voices flooded her mind, and noises, strange noises. Vast, reverberating, blasting sounds seemed to shoot out of the universe itself, sounds never heard because there were no human ears to hear it—planets colliding, stars exploding, meteors tearing apart in the atmosphere.

Professor Nox watched the girl's body thrash around in the Mako tank, catching glimpses of her wide, frightened eyes through her cloud of yellow hair. Her lab assistant, Hodges, a tall, thin, elderly man with graying hair, stood by her side, taking notes on a clipboard.

"Do you think there's enough residual Mako for her to survive such an exposure?" Hodges asked, never looking up from his notes.

"We'll find out in a moment, won't we?" she asked rhetorically.

"Professor!" a young female scientist called from behind a computer screen. "Her vital signs are spiking!"

The girl's body thrashed even more violently. Professor Nox watched with cool, calm, lavender eyes, her hands in the pockets of her stiff white lab coat.

Hodges glanced up from his clipboard. "This one isn't like the failures. That kind of exposure, she'll make an excellent weapon, of a kind we haven't seen in years," he marveled.

"Perhaps," Nox said, stepping up to the tank. "If she survives."


	8. Mako Dreams

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 8: Mako Dreams

"How is she doing?" Professor Nox inquired, walking into the rounded chamber of Lab B, Section 12 and eyeing the glowing blue tank with the floating girl.

An attendant turned away from his computer screen, reporting, "All vital signs have stabilized. We're picking up some intense brain activity, but we expect the specimen is merely dreaming."

"Merely?" Professor Nox repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Dreams can be very revealing. They can strip down a complicated problem to its simplest of elements, or complicate the simplest of things immensely by introducing new frontiers the mind never would have thought possible. Some of the greatest inventions and some of life's greatest puzzles have been purely the result of dreams." She raised a finger to her right temple. "Right now, our specimen is exploring the vast reaches of her own mind—who can say over what terrain she is traveling?"

The attendant, taken aback by Nox's speech, nodded, coughed into his hand, and turned around. Nox ignored the lack of intellectual response from him and stepped up to the tank, her starched white coat bathed in teal light, given off by the iridescent water. From within the tank, her specimen's pale skin appeared frigid, her hair greenish-yellow. Nox detected rapid eye movement beneath the specimen's closed eyelids. She took out a clipboard from one of her voluminous coat pockets and scrawled some notes.

"She's far too scrawny," Hodges commented in his scratchy voice, stepping up on the tank platform next to her. "We're going to have to feed her extra nutrients, work on building muscle. From the looks of it, stamina as well."

"She is lithe enough, at least, and healthy, with an excellent immune system," Nox replied, scribbling more notes. "We'll see how she holds up in battle when the Mako bath is completed."

The fingers on the girl's left hand twitched. Hodges smirked, the light from the tank glinting off his glasses. "She's dreaming. One of the symptoms of high Mako exposure is hallucinations. I wouldn't want to be where she is right now."

"We can only guess as to where 'that' is," Nox told him, dropping the clipboard back into its respective pocket. She tucked a misplaced strand of ink-black hair, streaked with gray, behind her ear. "Do you know what the ancient race of the Cetra used to say about Mako?"

"Hmmm, very few of their texts remain with us today," Hodges said, grasping his chin and gazing down at the floor. "If my memory serves, in a scroll that had been partially deciphered by Professor Gast, the Cetra used to call Mako the Blood of Gaia. They revered it for its numerous properties, and believed it to be the manifested form of the collected spiritual energy of the planet. They were far more sensitive to it than humans, able to interpret and translate it into a language, and they were able to control and sustain it. One might say they were the caretakers of Mako and the Lifestream." He continued to ramble, "Mako is deadly in high doses to most humans, excepting the few who have undergone the old SOLDIER procedure. Like the clown fish to the anemone, however, the Cetra built up resistance to Mako—it strengthened them and they were able to live amongst it, much like our specimen."

Nox smiled crookedly. "You never cease to amaze me with your living encyclopedia recitations. However, do you recall the effects of Mako on the dreams of those who have been exposed?"

Hodges rubbed his forehead. This wasn't part of his research, and he didn't like chit-chatting about things he needn't devote to his precious memory space. "Ah, something about causing hallucinations and granting visions. The Cetra believed it was possible to predict the future or even revisit scenes from the past. There were some experiments conducted by Hojo to try and send Mako-exposed humans backward or forward in time, but the results were messy, to say the least. He did discover the cryogenic properties of Mako, which we can thank for the preservation of some of Shinra's best specimens."

"Hmph, I would hardly call them the best," Nox said dismissively. "Anyway, the Cetra used Mako, among many things, for divination, and they would record these predictions on scrolls."

"Yes, but the prediction scrolls have been destroyed," Hodges interjected. "Whatever they discovered about Mako and dreams has been lost to us."

"And since we don't have the ability to map dreams," Nox stated, "we can only guess what our specimen, S-931, is dreaming about."

"I'm not sure where you're going with this, Professor."

"The Mako will not only have an effect on her body. It will affect her mind. She will be more open to seeing things that most people can't. Given her mother's background, I posit she may even develop psychic abilities."

"Let's not jump the gun on that one," Hodges said. "According to the Turks' report she's nothing like the mother, whom I understand was something of the town cleric. She's more like her father, a fighter, but from what intelligence gathered, she abandoned her training. However, Mako has unlocked dormant features in humans before. Perhaps you're right. Just don't expect it to perform miracles—this specimen may be young and spry, but I suspect she's a bit, oh, what's the word I'm looking for…_premature_."

"I think she's perfect," Nox murmured, placing a hand on the cool surface of the glass. "Coal must undergo intense heat and pressure over long lengths of time, before it can produce a diamond. One might pity the suffering of coal, but the end result is something that lasts forever."

Hodges didn't know what to say to Nox, talking about coal having feelings. Coal, a living specimen, same thing. They all possessed one purpose, and one alone—the advancement of science. He could care less about the benefits, the positives and negatives. All that mattered was breaking boundaries, exploring alien frontiers…things he knew the late Hojo would have respected. But Nox, their Science Division leader as well as the leader of this particular project, was a bit soft. She grew too emotional over her experiments. _Oh well,_ he conceded, _that's what happens when you have a female in charge._

* * *

><p><em>A memory floats up from the void of nothingness. In this bubble of time, a watercolor film preserved by the human brain, a woman of earthly beauty, with olive skin and flowing, chestnut brown hair, dressed entirely in forest green, leads her blonde-haired, blue-eyed child by the hand through a path in the woods. It is high summer and the plants fan out in full growth; the warm air carries sylvan smells—foliage, leaves, soil, and the faint aroma of wildflowers. The trees cluster together so densely, the sticky air reminds the girl of her mother's greenhouse back home. She looks up to her mother, whose hair shimmers in the sunlight filtered through the trees. Her own hair is a blonde, tangled mess. She doesn't know where her mother is taking her, but she knows it'll be a pleasant surprise. They didn't do this often, so when they finally did get the chance for an outing in the woods, her mother always makes it special.<em>

_At length they come to a glade, where the grass grows ankle-height and a small stream cuts through, babbling softly. Her mother leads her to a circle of red-capped mushrooms and instructs her to sit down. The girl obeys, and begins picking yellow flowers and tying their stems together, creating a bracelet. Her mother rests on her knees by a bare patch of soil and places a hand, palm down, on the ground. The girl looks around, her strange teal eyes expectant. Nothing exciting happens. A breeze sifts through the trees and makes a sighing sound. Her mother closes her eyes. She stays that way for a long time, until the girl has finished her bracelet and starts working on a crown._

_The girl sets her half-finished crown on her knee and asks, "Are you sleeping?"_

_Her mother doesn't respond. The breeze grows stronger, surrounding the girl on all sides. Now the trees are shaking and making strange ringing sounds. The girl grows frightened. She runs out of the circle of mushrooms, but before she can go join her mother's side, something catches her eye. She peers behind the brush to get a better view, pushing aside bushes and dense plants. She arrives at a large clearing where all the greenery has died, leaving behind dry, cracked earth. She doesn't know enough numbers to count all the tree stumps. Something about this sight makes her feel empty inside. She walks onto a large, grooved track left by a bulldozer and follows its trail with her eyes. It goes way to the other end of the clearing, where the forest begins again._

_The breeze escapes from the glade, carrying thousands of tiny blue sparks. The girl jumps as it rushes past her and across the clearing. The blue sparks settle to the earth, flare one last time, and disappear. In their place have grown tiny green sprouts. Baby trees, the girl understands. She smiles and runs back into the glade, careful not to step on any of the sprouts—none have grown on the bulldozer track where she stood. Her mother is still sitting where she left her, but this time her eyes have opened. She looks tired but otherwise happy._

"_Can you teach me to do that?" the girl asks._

"_Maybe someday," the woman answers, opening her arms. The girl runs into them, where there is warmth and love, and the emptiness, like so many things, fades into a memory.  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>The girl has grown taller, her legs lengthening and her thick hair falling to her lower back, where it is tied near the bottom. She sits on her bedroom floor, tying her brown boots tight. She is covered head to toe in bruises and scrapes from countless adventures, and handling her father's chocobos, who can be quite rambunctious. Something taps against her window and she goes over to investigate. Beneath her window stand three boys and a girl, all with white cloths wrapped around their foreheads. Her fellow classmates of the Megami no Ichizoku, the Goddess Clan, started by her ancestors, Cloud and Tifa, when they founded the town of Solstice.<em>

_She waves to her friends and shouts "I'll be right down!" just loud enough for them to hear. She bolts out of her room, but an argument between her parents stops her in her tracks. She sneaks down the hall and crouches by their bedroom door, which is open only a sliver. She can see her mother sitting at her vanity mirror, her father stands off to the side and out of her line of sight._

"_She isn't like me, either, Gale," her mother says. "She doesn't show any signs of hearing the Lifestream or the planet. I've taken her on multiple trips now to try and activate her powers, but clearly I haven't passed that on. And to be honest I'm relieved. Knowing is a burden."_

"_You're relieved?" her father asks in amazement. "Alexa, she hasn't been showing signs of improvement at the dojo. She falls behind every day. If her grandfather were still around, he'd be saddened by her lack of dedication."_

_Her mother turns slightly, so Iris can see part of her face, and says, "Maybe the focus on producing warriors has been too nearsighted. Not everyone is destined to be a fighter. As long as she's a good person, what does it matter to you?"_

"_It matters plenty," her father says. "For five generations, my family has passed down Cloud's sword fighting skills, and Tifa's martial arts knowledge. The Goddess Clan was founded on the very idea that someday the world might be put into jeopardy again, and the Megami warriors would be ready. My brother has no children of his own, though he is the greatest martial artist to live since Tifa's time. All my hopes rest on Iris. If she doesn't excel, who will lead her class? I would hate to see the good name of the Strifes fade away from its own dojo."_

"_Dear, I love you, but sometimes I think you're a little too obsessed with tradition," her mother replies flatly, and Iris is tempted to burst into the room and agree with her. "I support her finishing her training. She needs to earn her pink ribbon. But you shouldn't put so much pressure on her. Don't you remember what it was like, balancing school and training? It was your father's own relentless pressure that drove you away from Solstice to explore Gaia."_

"_I would not be as strong as I am today, were it not for him," he says. "I disliked him for being so strict and constantly forcing me to memorize the old stories—Holy and Meteorfall, the time of the advent children, Omega…if he hadn't taught me all these things, I would not have understood the importance of this ribbon I wear. All I want Iris to do is understand, and be ready. Sometimes I think she doesn't pay any attention at all."_

_"The world's not about to end any second. And she does listen. She has a good heart."_

"_A good heart isn't all the wins battles, Lex."_

"_No one can predict the next crisis," her mother reminds him gently. "If that time comes during our or Iris's lifetime, she will know what to do. The planet always finds a champion. Why you can't let her live her life in the meantime…"_

"_Because she's my only child!" her father exclaims, and Iris suddenly feels very uncomfortable eavesdropping. She can hear him pacing back and forth. "She may not carry on the name of Strife when she marries, but she can carry on our traditions. When I'm gone, those will be all that's left of me. Don't you see, Alexa? I'm trying to _help_ her_ _live_._ When I pass Zack's buster sword on to her, I want to do it with pride, not fear."_

_"If you would just have more faith in her, instead of being so overbearing..."  
><em>

_Iris has heard enough. She creeps down the steps and takes a moment to wipe her eyes before quietly opening the back door._

"_What took you so long?" Amon, younger, with short black hair and two perfectly healthy arms, asks. He stares at her reddened eyes, but she rolls them and says sarcastically,_

"_I had to do my nails." She play-smacks him across the face. He knocks her hand away with his own and they run across the chocobo fields to join their circle of friends, who had grown impatient waiting for Iris and had gotten a head start. They each select a chocobo and hop onto it, spurring the big yellow birds to catch up. Iris stretches her arms out and lets the wind rush across her skin._

* * *

><p>"<em>Round Three—Iris Strife versus Jade Moonstone. On my mark…one…two…three…FIGHT!"<em>

_Two female fighters, each garbed in white dojo uniforms, move inside a white circle that has been painted in the town square. A thin, energetic girl with a brown ponytail rushes Iris, her fists held in the air. Iris's gloves are up as well, and she sports a half-closed, swollen right eye and a developing bruise on her left thigh. Jade's vibrant green eyes, her namesake, settle on Iris's feet. She darts forward and attempts to leg sweep her. Iris jumps back, careful to avoid stepping out of the fighting ring. Several people it the spectator stands hiss at the close move._

_The other novices sit to one side, those who have passed their trials standing among the ranks of Master Kaito, with their new pink ribbons tied to their arms. Some of the novices and spectators are nodding off—they are used to Iris's evasive style and it makes for a boring fight. Iris's father and mother watch from the stands, her father's arms crossed and his expression worrisome. Amon is watching as well—his time will not come for another two weeks._

_Jade grows impatient with Iris's evasiveness. She feigns a punch to the right, then lands a hit on Iris's left side. She moves so fast that Iris barely has time to blink. She punches again, Iris blocks, but Jade lands a kick to her right shin. It's like trying to fight off a wasp._

"_Point!" the judge calls, garbed in a blue ceremonial robe. He waves a white fan and has the two teenage girls meet at the center of the ring. They bow to each other curtly and stare into each other's eyes._

"_Last point to declare winner," the judge reminds them, though he knows they don't need it. He raises his fan and backs up to the edge of the ring. "One…two…three…FIGHT!"_

_Jade rushes Iris again, punching from different angles. Iris can barely block, and she's backing up to the edge of the ring, losing ground. She ventures a hit at Jade, but the girl makes a snatch for her arm. Iris knows her technique—if she gets her by the wrist, she's done for. She leaps aside and tries her own leg sweep, but Jade's speed is unheard of. Her opponent easily clears her leg sweep with a jump, lands, and launches a bold frontal kick. Thinking she's finally found a window, Iris makes a grab for her leg, but it's another feint. Jade misses her on purpose, taking a giant step that brings her close, and locks her hands around Iris's wrist. She feels the impact of Jade's fist between her shoulder blades. Stunned, Jade spins her around with great force and releases, sending Iris flailing like a frightened chocobo across the ring._

_Iris struggles to regain her footing. She turns around, only to meet Jade's jump kick in the chest. Iris lands face-up on the ground, the breath knocked out of her lungs. The match ends, and the judge declares Jade the winner. She runs out of the ring to have her pink ribbon tied on by Master Kaito, and joins her upper classmen. Iris gets up shakily and "walks it off," as her teachers instructed her to do. She sits with the other novices, cheeks burning, and refuses to meet her father's stare from the stands. She barely pays attention to the other matches, dreaming of the day when she is old enough to leave Solstice and the Goddess Clan behind._

* * *

><p>"<em>You can't let him fight Vega! Do you know what that maniac'll do to him?" Iris shouts at her father across the dinner table, a list of tomorrow's matches on the tabletop. Alexa watches them both silently with a concerned look on her face, picking at her rice with her chopsticks.<em>

"_The matches are chosen at random, and once they're decided, it's final," her father says. He picks up the paper and waves it once. "I don't like it any more than you do. Vega's a dirty fighter and he shouldn't be in the Goddess Clan in the first place. He'd be more at home joining the Turks in Neo Midgar. Or even Z.I."_

"_If you agree with me why don't you do anything?" Iris pleads angrily. Her food remains uneaten on her plate._

_Father sighs heavily, exercising his patience. "In life we must face all kinds of enemies, including those that do not fight fair. The rules have never been altered, and they won't be changed by me."_

"_Gale, you've got to bring this to Kaito's attention," her mother points out. "If he's not even aware of the issue…"_

"_He's aware. And he agrees with me," father answers._

"_So, you and uncle will both put Amon's life at stake, just for the sake of the rules?" Iris asks incredulously. She stands up from the dinner table, fuming, and storms out of the kitchen. Her father lets her go, and he takes a large bite out of his chicken. Iris's mother pushes her own plate away._

"_You're finished too?" he asks. She doesn't say anything to him as she cleans her plate and leaves._

_Later that night, Iris and Amon have met in her family's chocobo barn. Amon hangs on their old childhood rope swing, swaying back and forth, while Iris picks hay out of the bale she's sitting on._

"_You sure you're ok with this?" she asks him, twirling a piece of hay in her fingers. "We can run away tonight, and you won't have to fight him. This whole thing is bullshit." She flicks the strand of hay and starts twisting another._

"_I'll be fine," Amon tells her, dismounting from the rope and walking over to Horus's stall. He strokes the bird's thick beak, and it closes its eyes appreciatively. It knows his scent—he's been working for Iris's father since he was twelve._

"_But Vega's a nutjob. He can barely go a week without fighting someone," Iris tells him. "He'd be better suited joining Zee, or the Turks."_

"_The Turks?"_

"_That's what dad said, anyway."_

_Amon laughs lightly, causing Horus to open one beady eye. "The last thing he needs to do is join Zee or a gang of thugs. If he beats me tomorrow, he's still gonna stay here, where we can all keep an eye on him. And I'll just have to try again next year."_

"_Don't talk about losing before a fight," Iris snaps. "It's bad luck." She gets up and walks toward him, feeding some greens to the yellow chocobo next to the sable Horus._

"_Sorry." Amon tosses some feed at her from a crate by his knees. Iris throws a chunk of greens at him, laughing as several strands catch in his hair._

"_If you don't cut your hair you won't be able to see Vega kicking your ass!"  
><em>

"_Don't need to see to know that!" Amon laughs, tossing another handful of feed at her. Iris shakes it out of her hair and runs away._

"_Make sure you do your stupid victory squats before the match!" she says, pausing to do a dramatic squat, raising her arms above her head and rising, before she starts to climb the ladder up to the hay loft._

"_Hey! Don't make fun of my warm-up technique!" Amon follows her to the top. When he gets there, she's shucked off her clothes and sits, cross-legged in her underwear. "Damn," he admits. "You're fast."_

"_Better catch up," Iris tells him, and he wraps his arms around her and they tumble onto the hay, laughing like a pair of idiots. Later, they will lay there for hours in silence, watching the dawn's rays shine through the barn windows and listening to the clucks and warbles of the chocobos below, not knowing what the day will bring._

_The final round of Amon's trials has the entire village of Solstice on edge. It's the biggest turnout in years, but then again this has been the largest class since Iris's grandfather competed for his ribbon. Amon bows to Vega in the ring, on the last round of their fight, which has been surprisingly even-matched. They share similar builds, both muscular and tall. Vega, with his platinum blonde hair, could have been the lighter twin of Amon, were it not for the facial differences and personality. He grins fiendishly at Amon as the judge steps back, and mutters something that Amon will later say that he couldn't fully hear, but it sounded like a strange language.  
><em>

_Iris watches from her place in the stands. She is not sitting with her parents—in fact, she hadn't planned on coming to the match—but in a split-second decision she had a change of heart. She hears the judge count to three, then "FIGHT!" and what happens next changes the course of her life, and Amon's, forever._

_Amon attacks Vega, who defends and injects his own counterattacks. With every punch Amon throws, Vega blocks and throws his own fist at him. They barely move in the ring, only in small circles, a stark contrast to Iris's fight, where Jade had her running all over the place. _Amon's always been good at holding his ground,_ Iris thinks with a twinge of envy._

_He throws a punch that grazes Vega's cheek, enough to have him throw back his head, and throws another punch after it. The crowd cheers and Iris tenses. He's done it! The crowd moans—Vega ducks backwards, showing impressive flexibility, springs onto his hands, flips, and lands a good ten feet from Amon. He slides back into a fighter's stance and beckons for Amon to attack him._

Don't take the bait,_ Iris thinks, but Amon runs toward him. Vega evades everything Amon can dish out, ducking and weaving, and Amon's moves become less tight, less focused. Vega is tiring him, but he's low on his own energy reserves, which, Iris and the crowd know, is when he becomes desperate. Amon knows this too, so he intensifies his offense, speeding up, backing Vega to the edge of the ring. The crowd starts to cheer—they've never seen Vega move so much to avoid an opponent._

_Before Iris can exhale the breath she's been holding for the last minute, Vega dodges one of Amon's uppercuts, and hits him savagely in the face. Amon blanches, and it's enough to win Vega the match—except he doesn't stop. In a moment of battle rage, Vega grabs Amon's arm and slams it down at an unnatural angle onto his knee. Iris can't hear his arm snap over the crowd's roar of outrage, but she can see the look of anguish on her best friend's face. Later, Amon will tell her what Vega said to him as he was doing it._

"_Never," Vega growls, "back a wolf into a corner."_

_Vega raises his right hand and brings it down, chopping Amon's left arm off at the shoulder. Vega casts the limb aside as Kaito comes bounding into the ring, and knocks Vega unconscious with a blow to the side of the head. It's a blow that will leave Vega as an invalid for the rest of his days. Iris leaps out of the stands and runs into the ring, only to find her mother already there. Amon lies unconscious in a pool of his own blood in the dirt. Her mother touches her hand to his bleeding stump and the wound closes. Seth kneels by his son's side and checks his pulse, finding it weak but still there. A team of medics shoos Iris away and she flees the scene, lest she should see her father, which would have set her into a rage not unlike Vega's._

* * *

><p><em>Two months later, at about four in the morning, Iris creeps down the stairs with a hiking pack on her shoulders. She sneaks over to the front door, opens it, and rests the pack outside before walking slowly to her father's armory and meditation room. She steals across the polished wooden floors and opens her father's sacred Wutaian cabinet, the finest in the region's craftsmanship, lacquered with gold, the dark wood stained red. Inside the cabinet are various swords of the cleverest, finest make, including a Wutaian katana and a Corel desert scimitar, but the biggest and most ancient of which is the buster sword, which had passed from the dying hand of one warrior into the hand of a novice, her ancestor, Cloud.<em>

_A sword like this one was worth a fortune on the black market. Iris lifts the enormous sword from its resting place, its edge still keen and deadly—father cleaned and sharpened it about once a month. _This sword would have been mine,_ she thinks, _if I had passed my trials.

"_So," her mother says softly from the door, "You're running away and taking your father's prized possession."_

_Iris is startled, but she doesn't turn around. _"_That's right," she murmurs, "I'm going to Neo Midgar to sell this sword, to pay for Amon's operation."_

"_I'm not talking about the sword."_

_Iris still doesn't face her. She can't bring herself to look into her mother's eyes. Mother may have disapproved of the warrior's way, but that didn't mean she uplifted liars and thieves, either. A long minute passes between them. Mother's silent treatments were worse than her father's punishments._

"_Please be careful, Iris," mother says at last. _

_When Iris turns around, her mother has gone back upstairs. She exhales silently, the adrenaline ebbing away, and tiptoes to the front door, where she pulls out a sheet from her pack. She wraps the sword in the sheet and straps it to her backpack, pulling the entire load onto her shoulders with a grunt. She walks to the stables, where Amon, with his remaining hand, holds onto the reigns of his blue chocobo, Loki (which he bred and owned). He doesn't make a sound as Iris mounts her green chocobo, though he glances at the sword and furrows his brow.  
><em>

"_Easy, Emerald," Iris hushes, patting her chocobo's neck as it lets out a low squawk, not used to the added weight._

"_So we're really doing this, then," Amon says, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag. He is still not used to the reduction of weight from his arm, and Iris can tell it's taking a lot for him to sit up tall on Loki.  
><em>

"_No turning back," she tells him.  
><em>

"_What makes you think after we get the money that anyone will take our request?" he asks._

"_It's a little late to be asking questions. Now, let's get the hell out of here." She nudges Emerald with her heels. The bird takes off on its long, powerful legs, with Amon and Loki following close behind. Their first night in the wilderness, while resting by a campfire, Iris ties a pink ribbon to Amon's arm, and then ties one around her own.  
><em>

_"What are you doing?" he asks, pulling at the ribbon awkwardly. "We didn't pass trials."  
><em>

_Iris puts out a hand to stop him. "It's to remind us of where we came from. No one can deny us that."  
><em>

_"Don't tell me you're homesick already."  
><em>

_"Yeah, right." She feeds a piece of kindling to the fire. "Get some sleep. We've got a long ride to Neo Midgar."  
><em>


	9. Firebrand

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 9: Firebrand

The Zenith Inc. board meeting room, aside from the main lobby, was the only above-ground portion of the conglomerate's headquarters. Accessed by a set of private elevators, the room featured a panoramic window looking out on Gaia Square, and farther on to the busiest street in the city, Gainsborough Street, which cut the city into northern and southern halves. The archway at the intersection of Gaia and Gainsborough, made from carved marble, was also the perch of one the city's many angelic statues. Her tiny wings and back were turned away from Zenith Inc.. Most of the angels, the "guardians of the city," as they were sometimes called, were crafted to face downward, onto the humans they supposedly protected.

The eyes of two large, stone dragons leered at those who stood before the entrance to the board room. Their gaze permanently fixed on a man in a dark red suit. The beasts' long, scaly tails trailed up the wall and framed the double doors in front of him. The man removed a silver flask from his pocket and took a generous gulp. He strode into the room and, ignoring the light switch, took his seat at the center of the crescent-shaped table, sitting in partial darkness (lit only by the light shining from the massive window). A robed man emerged from the darkest corner of the room. His red eyes glowed faintly like two embers.

"President Mercer." The robed man said.

"Bylet'h." Mercer greeted curtly. Bylet'h smirked and sat down, tucking his hands into his voluminous sleeves.

"I trust this is about the earthquake?" Bylet'h asked, in a voice both deep and somehow quiet. The effect was restrained baritone. If he had wanted to, he could have filled the room and the one beyond with his voice.

Mercer turned in his chair to face him, still in darkness. He said quietly, "Among other things. That was a great stunt you and your converts pulled out in the northeastern prairies. All that destruction to kidnap one woman."

When Bylet'h didn't reply, the president flicked his wrist and said, "I could care less about the individuals there, especially that pink ribbon gang obsessed with the so-called Meteorfall heroes. But Solstice is one of our chief suppliers of grain and wheat. Nothing but fields surround the town for miles and miles. And you," Mercer chuckled hollowly, "set the place ablaze."

"We did not touch the wheat fields. Our fires are under our control," Bylet'h hissed. "We did what was necessary. We burned those homes so the people knew the Black Wings were among them. Are you questioning my judgment?"

"No, only saying a wiser calling card would have benefited you," said Mercer. "Every major town on the map today has something of value to this city. Remove one card, and the entire house falls. The next time you go on a violence spree, I expect you'll count that as a factor. I'll not have this empire, so carefully reconstructed by me and every president before me since Rufus died, hobbled by the actions of a few religious fanatics."

"As you wish, _sire_," Bylet'h said icily. "Don't you have a meeting to begin?"

Mercer frowned and punched a button on the control panel before him. The fluorescent lights flickered on. Bylet'h's face remained shrouded by his hood, with only the tip of his flat nose and thin pale lips showing. Just when President Mercer was worried he would have to continue to talk to the creep, the elevator doors chimed and out came a finely dressed man in an old-fashioned uniform (high boots, collared shirt with gold buttons down the center, short navy-blue cape, and a vest), sporting a black goatee and spiked dark hair. Old war patches and medals decorated his chest and shoulders, including a Fort Condor golden mascot (a condor with spread wings, respectively). A regally designed rapier tied to his belt bobbed up and down with each step.

He stood before the president and saluted smartly, clicking his heels together.

"Ah, Cuthbert. Ever punctual, as usual," Mercer said, relieved. "I know you've traveled a long way to come here. I thank you for it."

Cuthbert replied, "Of course. It's an honor to meet with you, Mr. President," before taking a seat to Mercer's left. One by one, more of Zentih Inc.'s board members began showing up. Following Cuthbert hobbled a frail man with a balding scalp and wrinkled brown skin, the Secretary of Treasury, Lyndon. His faded gray suit practically hung off his skeletal frame. Following him was the head of Urban Development, Taichi, tan, big-boned, with what little dark hair he had left done in a topknot. He reeked of fine cologne. The Turks followed next, with Lyall in the lead, and the bulkier Ace at his side. A bony brunette and an old man (covered from the neck down in Yakuza body tattoos) tailed them closely. The old man had a katana strapped to his back, but no one seemed to question it. All four Turks distanced themselves from the rest and remained silent.

Lastly arrived Professor Nox, her gray-black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her white lab coat billowing behind her, sporting a tight black mini dress underneath and a pair of dagger-sharp midnight heels. She came with a clipboard already tucked under her arm and several pens nestled into her breast pocket. Taichi, hiding behind a pair of tiny, round black sunglasses, was all-too obvious to some of the others as he ogled the young scientist. Ace took out a playing card and danced it along his knuckles, his cheeks flushing slightly. Nox bowed before Mercer and sat down at the very edge of the table.

"Welcome," President Mercer began, spreading his arms. He had dark circles under both eyes, giving him a glowering effect even though he was trying to be cheerful. They were all used to this drained, gaunt appearance. It was well-known that Mercer hardly ever slept, and the chief reason he seldom appeared in public. His closely-shaved brown hair, much like a patient, didn't help either. "Let us begin. You all know why I have summoned you here. Our recent earthquake has attracted quite a bit of interest up north. Communications with Bone Village remain down. But I'll leave the rest to Nox and Cuthbert."

Nox pressed a button on her control panel. A metal sphere descended from the ceiling in the middle of the room, which had many sliding layers. These layers began to spin, rearranging themselves while light gathered from within, growing quickly in brightness. The sphere whirred faster and faster, until it projected a holographic image of the northern coastline. Nox stood and walked over to the projection. Clearing her throat, she said, "These are the cliffs of the Northern Continent, looking directly north, before the quake." The image shifted slightly. The snowy cliffs and crashing black sea appeared the same, but, in the distance, a strange dome structure, seemingly made of light, appeared.

"And this is after. The quake occurred at exactly 1700 hours. And this dome appeared an hour later, over the Forgotten Capitol ruins." She zoomed in and used a purple laser pointer to indicate the dome, though it wasn't necessary. "Upon long-distance analysis, reading its energy output and other signals, we've determined the dome is partially constructed of electricity, partially of Mako, and about three-fourths something we could not identify. But it's clear that the dome is impenetrable. We have seen such force fields appear before, after all."

"We're calling it a force field already?" Mercer asked.

"Yes," Cuthbert answered for Nox, twirling his goatee. "Very precarious situation, I'm afraid. We fired some ground-level rounds at it to find all of the bullets crushed and laying at the base of the field."

"What about something with a little more bang?" Taichi asked, rubbing his hands together. "Such as a powerful cannon blast? Didn't that work before?"

"We do not possess the Mako reserves that were required of the old super cannons," Cuthbert said dryly, as if the idea of a Mako cannon was barbaric. "However, if President Mercer will permit…"

Mercer nodded. Cuthbert continued, "Massive energy output can be obtained from other sources. While Zenith Inc., though impressive and mighty, has little nuclear or even artillery power capable of breaching the shield, materia contains enough magical and physical energy to produce the results we desire. Specifically, summons materia."

"Which the Turks have dutifully provided," the brunette Turk interjected.

"Yes, thank you, Denise," Mercer said sharply. "Cuthbert, go on."

Cuthbert elaborated, "There are sixteen summons materia on record. Each, when leveled to its master state, contains a veritable well of energy. If we could somehow harness that, combining each materia into a powerful ray, it may break the shield."

"Why do we want to break the shield?" Lyndon asked. Everyone stared at him. He shrank in his chair, stammering, "N-not to intrude, but what is so threatening about it?"

"Nothing, yet," Professor Nox answered. "But based on the readings we've taken, and what little we've been able to sight inside the dome, there are definitely creatures moving around in there. They're not human, and not animal, either. But the energy readings given off by them and the dome are astounding."

"And?" Lyndon waited for her to finish. When he saw that she had nothing else to say, he shook his head. "It does not strike me as wise to attack an enemy before they attack us."

"It's merely a safety precaution," Cuthbert insisted. "In case something _does_ happen, we want to be prepared, don't we? Although, we still need four of the materia stones."

Lyall raised his voice. "They were cleverly hidden centuries ago, some of them entrusted to living guardians whose entire lives have been devoted to secrecy. If we had had more time, perhaps, we could have found them all."

Mercer said coolly, "What remains, then, is to find the remaining summons materia and figure out a way to harness the power. The Turks will continue to search while Cuthbert oversees the mechanical counterpart, in whatever form that will be."

"We are already working on a prototype for a ray gun," Cuthbert said.

Lyndon cleared his throat. Mercer's bloodshot eyes turned on the frail man. "This had better be good, Secretary."

Lyndon, sweating visibly, coughed into his hand and said, "The summons materia will take more time and funds to collect, not to mention the resources needed to harness their power, which I imagine will end up costing us a decent chunk of gil. Maybe more than we have. All to fight something we aren't even sure is an enemy yet."

"Oh, they are our enemies, rest assured," Bylet'h hissed.

"What did you say?" Lyndon demanded.

The robed man lowered his hood, revealing a bald head and neck grafted with puffy scars written in some kind of scripted language. His eyes were two blackened sockets where red pupils gleamed out at everyone in the room, and both of his ears were gauged with thick, nail-shaped spikes. Denise gawked at him in horror, but the tattooed Turk grunted, nudged her with his elbow, and she regained composure.

"It is written in the ancient scroll, Heaven's Ultimatum," Bylet'h began, and from the folds of his robe he took a very old, very fragile roll of parchment.

"Here we go," Taichi muttered under his breath.

"Please," Professor Nox said, raising her hands. "Let him speak. He knows more about these creatures than any of us."

"The knowledge I possess was revealed to me in fragments," Bylet'h began. "This scroll is, after all, written in the language of the Ancients. It is these very _beings_—not creatures, Professor—who have reappeared, brought back from time and death by divine powers. The prophecy is revealing itself."

Taichi groaned. "Are we really going to listen to this supernatural shit?" Mercer drew a long, old-fashioned silver pistol from beneath the table and clicked the hammer back.

"Any more interruptions, and that person will never speak again. Am I clear?" Mercer growled. All eyes focused on him, then slowly back to Bylet'h. Taichi shuffled his large frame and bowed his head.

Bylet'h, ignoring the gun, said, "The scroll is extremely difficult to decipher. I have dedicated most of my life to translating it. The Cetra wrote in code, and without a key of some kind, I have only managed to crack a few lines. But what I have learned has granted me this vision—the Cetra will return, summoned by the planet to right the imbalances caused by…" Bylet'h saw the tip of the pistol turn on him, and he rephrased, "-various factors. The Cetra are the true lords of this world. Humans are gnats in a stampede in comparison. They see us as a virus more than a species. It is unclear to me whether they will seek to eliminate us, or force us into slavery. Once they have returned to their full power, the shield will break, and unleash the apocalypse on mankind. And then-"

"Quiet," Mercer ordered. "Assuming this is true, how do we know your part in this will help us?"

"You cannot fight them with any mortal weapon," Bylet'h said. "Soon, in a month's time, I will bring back a force capable of combating them."

"I hope you're right, High Priest. Professor Nox," Mercer turned to the scientist, who was still standing by the projection with her arms folded. "What progress have you made?"

"We have successfully captured the descendant of Cloud and Tifa," Nox reported. "Despite five generations of mixed genes and outside breeding, she shows remarkable likeness to the original Strife and Lockhart. According to the scroll, a warrior bearing the looks of her predecessors would be born, and she would lead the way to humanity's salvation."

"So I have heard." Mercer set his pistol down. Several people in the room relaxed, but those who knew the president better remained tense. "The only reason I support this crackpot theory is because of your support for it, Nox. Try not to disappoint me."

"She will have to be conditioned, of course," Nox explained a tad hastily, brushing a piece of imaginary dust off her coat. "A process that will take time, but I believe our facilities can mold her into the weapon she was meant to be. It's only a matter of breaking her and rebuilding her. We will erase her past memories and focus all of her development thereafter on one sole purpose—destroying the Cetra."

"How much time?" Mercer asked.

"Six months, a year if she shows extra resistance," Nox said.

"A year? What if the Cetra attack us before then?" Cuthbert asked angrily. "Surely we cannot rely on one agent, based on the word of a lunatic…"

Bylet'h did not react. Nox admitted, "I wish we had learned about the girl and gotten to her sooner. But we have only recently learned of the prophecy. We will continue to monitor the dome for changes in activity. It is growing, slowly but surely. I do not think they are ready to attack. I think it will take them some time before they are ready as well."

Bylet'h sneered. "Who are you to say when the end of the world shall be? It could be a year from now. It could be tomorrow."

"Enough. You and Nox have my permission to continue with this project. But all the same," President Mercer turned to Cuthbert. "I'd rather have a backup plan. Relying on one individual seems foolish and frankly it's a little too Old World for me. Lyall, I want you and the rest of the Turks to find me the missing materia. We will strike at the Cetra before they strike at us."

"What if the attack does nothing, and we merely provoke them?" Lyndon chimed in.

"If it's as Bylet'h says, and Nox's readings are correct, we can't afford to let them make the first move," Cuthbert told him. "And when last I recalled, your specialty was counting coins and running numbers, not planning for war."

"War is a game of numbers," Lyndon mumbled with malcontent.

Mercer said sharply, "I have heard enough. You are all aware of our situation. Taichi, I trust you will keep the public informed on a need-to-know basis. Keep them in line."

"Sir." Taichi nodded, a grin spreading across his thick, round face. "That shouldn't be too hard. Especially if I have your permission to deploy Z.I. soldiers where needed. Just to round up any rabble-rousers getting funny ideas."

"Permission granted," Mercer told him. He stood up. "That concludes our meeting. Bylet'h, stay behind. I want to speak with you privately."

The High Priest of the Black Wings remained seated as the others cleared out of the room. When he was certain they were alone, Mercer strode over to the window and stood gazing down at the streets below. The sun was setting and the city lights began to glow. The bio dome lit up like a great green soap bubble in the distance. Was all of this really worth it?

"I have a question for you, _world leader_," Bylet'h asked, a smile playing on his thin lips. "If I hadn't been so amused by the notion of a gunshot killing me, I would have incinerated you on the spot. But I had to know first—what was it you were doing, exactly, to have brought the Cetra's wrath upon us?"

Mercer did not turn around. "We were testing for oil. Our drill broke through an air pocket containing something, we thought it was Mako, but it swallowed the equipment, and the WRO workers, and then it grew. And it hasn't stopped growing."

Bylet'h chuckled and stood up from his chair. "What's so gods-damned funny?" Mercer asked.

"The irony. Man never learns, does he?" Bylet'h mused. "Two-hundred years ago, a meteor nearly destroys the planet because of his greed. And two-hundred years later, the cycle repeats itself."

"You're wrong," Mercer said, his rage white-hot.

"Oh?" Bylet'h taunted. "Am I? The prophecy will come true. Heaven's Ultimatum will fall on the shoulders of the weak, such as yourself, and you will lead them all to ruin."

"You heard what you came to hear, now get out of my building," Mercer growled, his hand on his pistol.

"You are cocky, but don't forget who really owns this company and this world. Oh, and you." Bylet'h held out his right hand, which burst into a red, unholy flame. Mercer smelled smoke. Tendrils of it ran past him, clouding his view of the outside world. He glanced down at his chest, where smoke was also rising. A rune, placed over his heart, burned its way through his shirt, the smell of charred skin filling his nostrils. One never got used to the pain. He threw back his head and focused on not screaming.

"Your part in this is short-lived, I'm afraid. Soon, the One Winged Angel will return."

Mercer winced, struggling to stand still. He felt the energy draining from his body, turning him into something lower than human. Blackness crept at the corners of his eyes. He was vaguely aware of a breeze, carrying dark feathers, and then the pain ended. He inhaled sharply.

"And he…" Bylet'h's voice echoed, "will cleanse us all."

The President of Zenith Inc., and leader of the WRO, stood alone in the board room, with nothing but a cloud of smog hanging over his head. He removed the flask from his pocket and took a long drink.

* * *

><p>(Author's Note: Gah, I posted this last night, but then I noticed some grammatical errors and went back to edit them this morning. I hope I got them all. Also, I know I've been updating two, maybe three times a week, but I'm going to slow down my pace a bit so I can focus on IRL stuff, and hopefully this will improve my writing as well. Please keep reading, and thanks!)<p> 


	10. S931

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 10: S-931

Iris awoke inside a small, gray holding cell. Her mind felt foggy, discombobulated, as though she had been on a three-day drug trip without any pit-stops. The dreams, the intense visions she had experienced, reliving past events as though they were occurring before her eyes—all came swarming back, stinging her heart with newly inflicted wounds. Memories weren't supposed to cause this much pain. She did her best to shut them out, and lay there for minutes (hours?) trying to find a way.

First she tried the cold embrace of apathy, but there was no escaping her father's stare, nor the bright red blood of Amon's arm lying in the dirt, or her mother's shadow falling across the doorway as she stood, caught red-handed with the ancient buster sword. She tried anger, lashing out at Zenith and the Turks and the Black Wings. Nothing worked, so she focused on a goal. She had to find her mother; she had to escape. She tried sitting up for starters. That turned out to be a mistake. Her vision swam with vertigo.

"Shiva," she swore softly, shutting her eyes until it went away. She opened them suddenly, her hand shooting to her stomach. The bruise had vanished completely. In fact, her entire body had been completely healed. There wasn't even a scratch on her skin. What the hell had they done to her? She didn't have much time to ruminate. The door to her cell slid open, revealing two armed guards. They pointed their guns at her and the shorter of the two said,

"Get up. You're coming with us."

Iris rubbed her eyes and lay back down. "Don't think so. I'm still kinda tired."

The short guard stepped into her cell. "We can do this easy, kid, or we can call one of those white-coats in here and have 'em drug you."

Iris groaned. "No thanks, I've had enough drugs lately." She rose and the guard ordered, "Keep your hands at your sides." He led her out of the room, so that she was sandwiched between the two guards. She peered at the gun on the guard in front of her. It appeared to fire darts, but she didn't want to count on appearances. They escorted her into a large, domed room that resembled a gymnasium, but one that had many unpleasant surprises hiding beneath its surface. The floors were tiled and the walls patterned with slits and circular, metal tunnels where anything could emerge. A red light clicked to her left, revealing a long, two-way glass window. Five scientists watched her through it.

"Congratulations, S-931. You've survived the Mako treatment," an older man with glasses said into his microphone. His voice crackled through a set of hidden speakers somewhere nearby.

"Great!" Iris chimed perkily, cracking her knuckles. "C'mon in here and let me show you my gratitude!"

The man didn't react at first. Then he leaned closer towards the microphone, as if he would whisper in her ear, and said, "Oh, but you see, only specimens are allowed inside the training room. I wouldn't want to distract you."

"From what?" Iris asked, thinking, _Do I wanna know?_

The man replied vaguely, "It's time to see if Nox was right." Several of the white-coats next to him began busily typing and sliding their fingers across holographic diagrams. Iris had no clue what they were doing, only that a bunch of those scientists suddenly getting busy all at once was no good. The floor opened up to her right. A metal rack appeared, stacked with weapons of various kinds and sizes.

Before Iris could even twitch, she heard a mechanical hum and spun around. A door in the side of the dome was creeping up, revealing darkness and something else, something Iris knew, instinctively, meant to harm her. She dashed over to the weapons rack, where an assortment of swords, guns, daggers, a bow and arrow, a mace, a strange metal staff with openings on both ends, and a multitude of guns she didn't recognize hung. She eyed the guns with distrust and grabbed a sword and a dagger, running off with them toward the opposite end of the gym.

Out of the hole crawled a robot, or was it a beast? It was at least twice her height and three times times as long. As it emerged into the light, Iris saw that it was a mesh of scales, bone, and metal parts—a cyborg. Its eyes glowed electric red, scanning her with the cold menace of a computer. The beast had no wings, and the body consisted of segments, with deadly-looking spikes lining its back and wickedly sharp claws on each foot. As its silvery body gleamed in the light, Iris quickly assessed that her weapon choice may have been wrong.

"Shit," she said.

The cyborg stood on its hind legs, breaking into a run, its feet clanking and scraping the ground. Iris ran at it head-on, blades held at her sides. They both skidded to a halt as the floor in the center of the gym shifted. The tiles rose into hexagonal platforms, some taller than others, the tallest about thirty feet off the ground. Iris ran with all her might, leaping onto the first platform within reach, then another, and another, until she had a clear view of the floor below.

The dragon stopped right beneath her, opened its maw, and shot a jet of blue flame so fast that a huge chunk of Iris's hair singed off as she whipped her head out of the way. She searched its body for a weak spot, but the beast was covered from nose to tail tip in metal flesh, with a few patches of scales on the belly and above the shoulder. She glanced over at the weapons rack, thinking she could use the bow to take out one of its eyes, but it had disappeared. The dragon leapt off its hind legs, its springs giving it extra air, and snapped its saw-like teeth. She lifted a foot and the teeth clamped on thin air.

No time left. She jumped for the neighboring platform. The dragon sprung again, so close behind her she could hear its parts scraping together. It screeched in rage and landed with a thud, circling below. Iris's heart was pounding now. That thing, whether computer or living, was perfectly capable of tearing her to pieces. As the dragon continued to circle, snorting and grunting hollow, metal sounds, Iris found its weak spot. The bare patch of scales above its shoulder, only about the size of her hand, became her target. She peeled off her outer shirt, leaving on the black tank-top beneath it, wadded it into a ball, and tossed it away. The dragon dashed after it. She followed, using the platforms, and as the dragon stopped to sniff her shirt, she lined up her strike.

The platform sank beneath her feet. She fell, dropped her sword, and landed square on top of the cyborg. It tried to buck her off, but she held on for dear life, like she was handling an angry chocobo. The dragon slammed her against one of the platform pillars, knocking the breath out of her lungs. But she held fast, and plunged the dagger deep into the flesh of its shoulder. The creature bucked and screeched more violently, throwing her off. She missed a platform by a hair and landed on her feet. The dragon turned and charged, shooting more flames. Iris ducked out of the way. It shot another jet, lower this time, forcing her to the floor.

She didn't make it in time. The flames scorched her back and hair, setting her on fire. She flipped over to put them out, rolling across something hard and cold. Her fingers grasped her sword just as the dragon pounced on top of her, slashing and biting. Iris brought the sword up, and the cyborg's jaws clamped around it. For a few seconds they lay entangled, Iris struggling to hold back the beast's incalculable weight, and losing fast. Its talons tore three ribbons of blood into her flesh. She screamed in pain. New rage coursed through her veins. She rolled up her legs and placed both boots on its chest, kicking with all her might. The cyborg staggered back and Iris saw another opening at the base of the throat, between the plates of armor. She leapt forward and dealt it an upper cut to the jaw, finding strength she hadn't expected. Her punch collided with what felt like solid steel, and her fist transformed into a ball of agony. The beast took a moment to shake its head clear, which struck Iris as odd if it was a computer. She didn't have time to think about it. Her sword sank into its exposed throat, down to the hilt.

The beast let loose one final screech before falling forward on her. Caged by its front talons, she lay there, panting and bleeding all over the floor. The cyborg's eyes were fixed on her. As she looked into them, her body twitched with a nasty shock. What she had thought were computerized eyes, like a car's or a motorcycle's headlights, were two red slits filled with liquid, and two actual eyeballs floating inside, with coin-sized yellow irises and black, slit pupils. They ogled at slightly-off angles, like a cartoon character. Despite the pain and it having nearly killed her, she was struck by a sudden sadness.

_This thing was alive,_ she thought. _What did it endure before they forced it to fight me? They took it apart and put it back together. They must have ripped out its eyes and stuffed them back in like that, driving it mad with pain. What kind of place is this?_

A droid wheeled over and clamped its hands on the creature's body, dragging it off and dumping it down a trash chute. Several white-coats ran to her side, surrounding her. Iris fought their hands as they descended, but there were too many. A needle found her arm before she could get a punch in, and her body went limp. She remained conscious as they lifted her onto a gurney and one of them began patching up her side, right there in the middle of the battleground. The white-coat placed a fleshy piece of tape over each slash mark, and Iris felt a distant cooling sensation as her wounds closed.

The man from earlier leaned across her to speak to another white-coat. His name tag said "Hodges". "She's resisting the sedatives already—a heightened metabolism. See how she's lucid? We'll have to give her twice the normal dose. One of you get the results from the session to Nox."

"Interesting that she chose the swords and not the guns," one of the scientists remarked, typing notes onto a digital notepad. "The assault rifle and laser blaster were right there, but she didn't pick them up."

Another scientist prepped a shot of sedative. "Let's get her patched up for round two."

"Why…" Iris choked out. "Why are you doing this? I have…to find…mom…"

She didn't feel the second needle and blacked out.

* * *

><p><em>Man, if I had ten gil for every time you've been knocked unconscious,<em> Amon's apparition said. Iris lay on her bunk, her head nestled in her arms. She imagined him standing there, folding his arms, his left shoulder jutting out, the cobalt metal gleaming beneath his sleeveless shirt. She'd give anything to see his face again. To be out in the sun, away from those cold, unfeeling walls.

_Are you coming for me? Do you even know where I am?_ she wondered. She daren't say it aloud, in case they were recording her (she had combed her cell over and over for a hidden camera, but there was no way of knowing for sure). The whoosh of the doors opening startled her into a sitting position. The guards entered her cell, but this time a woman was with them. She seemed very familiar to Iris, and after a few seconds she was able to recall her face—the woman who had ordered her to be drugged and dumped into a tube of chemicals. She glared at the woman with menace. The guards' gun barrels trained on her chest.

The woman stepped into her cell. She wore a black suit, tailored to sharp points at the collar and the hem. Pieces of her hair fell across an angular, severely pretty face with sharp cheekbones and high eyebrows. She smiled and said, "Hello. I'm Professor Nox. I usually don't get to do this, but congratulations on surviving your first training session, S-931."

"That's Iris to you, bitch," she spat. She clenched the edge of her mattress, looking into the dark, cool eyes of her jailor for any sign of emotion. The guards didn't move an inch, their fingers on the triggers of their guns.

"You had better get used to it," the woman continued, raising her chin slightly. "Rebirth requires a new name, after all."

Iris eyed her distrustfully. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you're not the same person as you were before the Mako bath."

Iris felt a wave of anxiety wash over her. "S-so that _was_ Mako you dumped me in? Why am I not dead?"

"Think about it, 931. Your ancestor, Cloud, had Mako in his veins. He passed his genetically altered DNA on to you, and in turn made you immune to Mako's harsh effects. Well, I shouldn't say completely immune, as an exposure to pure Mako would likely kill you just as well as anything else that has carbon atoms."

"Great," Iris growled. "I don't care. Let me out of this cell. I have to find my mother."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," Nox told her. "As you do not have a mother. You were born as the result of a scientific endeavor."

"You're fucking nuts!" Iris spat. "And you're wasting your time. Whatever it is you want from me, you're not going to get it."

"Oh but we will," Nox replied coolly. "You'll do what we tell you. Or else you will die. And you'd best forget about that silly life you think you left behind. You live here. You always have. All of your memories were dreamed up by you while incubating in the Mako bath, until your body matured enough for training."

"Fine, whatever you say." Iris laughed and lay back down on her mattress. "I'm a pink Mog from the moon. Whatever. Unless you need something, leave me the hell alone."

"Mmm. Cut her food and water rations," Nox ordered, as if she were making a final decision on party favors. "931, if you're as smart as I hope you are, you'll learn to watch your tongue. It's not fitting of a soldier."

"Hades take you."

"Guards," Nox said. "Deny her food for two days, and water for three. And cut off the running water to her toilet."

Iris sat up. "Hey! C'mon! You can't do that!"

Nox looked over her shoulder and said, "You'll do well to remember what I asked. Total obedience, or I'll make you suffer. Goodbye."

The guards backed out after her, and the doors locked shut, a solid foot of steel separating her from the outside world. Iris slammed her fist against the wall. It didn't do enough. She flipped her mattress and threw it at the door. She kicked at the toilet, breaking the seat off. She threw herself at the door, over and over, until her shoulder was bruised and her neck so stiff she could barely move it. She slid to the floor and pulled the mattress down with her, covering herself with it, forming a barrier between herself and the confines of the cell.

She tried to recall her mother's face, and she could, but the edges were blurry, like looking at a photograph that had been stained with water. Well, she hadn't seen her mother in a while (not since she left, not since that night). She focused on something recent, the moment she and Amon opened the Zenith Inc. box, the red materia winking at her under the street lights. They had gone together to deliver it…no, that was wrong, they'd had a fight, and she'd left Amon at the mercy of the Turks to go drink at a bar.

_She's a liar_, Iris thought. _But why is it getting so hard for me to remember things? I need to calm down. I need to focus on escape._

She pulled all of her energy into her single desire for freedom and waited. With luck, the universe would respond to her desire. But she had never been one to rely on luck.

* * *

><p>They came for her three days later, or what she guessed was three days, without giving her any food or water, just as Nox said. That morning, there had been two slices of bread and a sliver of bacon on the tray that came in through the slit in the door, but it wasn't enough to quell the beast inside her stomach. Her insides twisted as she walked down the hall with the guards. Having a little to eat after starving for two days was almost worse than having nothing at all—now all she could think about was food. Her thirst she had found a solution to. Before they had turned off her water, she had dunked her bed sheet in the toilet, and had sucked the moisture from it for the past three days.<p>

When she got to the gymnasium, the guards left her standing there, awaiting her fate. She watched anxiously for some new creature to come flying at her. The scientists in the red window were busy with something, but there was no movement in the gym. Not at first, until Iris heard mechanics start whirring and the floor and walls vibrated.

Gods, what now? This time, there was no living enemy. Guns emerged from all angles, out of the floor, the ceiling, the walls. She started running before they could fire, going in zigzag patterns. Then all hell broke loose. Bullets and lasers swarmed the air like angry hornets. She couldn't even make out a pattern. It was as if someone had thrown a massive beehive into the center of the room.

A wall rose up to her left. She dove behind it, taking a moment to squat and think. She couldn't concentrate. Her mind reeled and her ears rang from the cacophony guns and lasers firing all at once. A rocket launcher poked out of the ceiling nearby. She dove out of the way and lay face down on the floor as more projectiles whizzed over her head. The explosion from the grenade caused stars to appear on the back of her eyes.

"S-931! Focus on the patterns! It may seem chaotic, but there is a pattern!" Hodges' voice rang over the speakers.

_Why the fuck is he helping me?_ She covered her head with her arms and waited until she no longer felt the wind rushing across her skin as a bullet grazed past. She opened her eyes and rose into a crouch, looking wildly for shelter. Four walls had risen out of the floor (one lay in smoking ruins behind her), in four corners, forming an invisible square. At least two dozen pillars had assembled in the middle of the square, at seemingly random locations. Were they really random, or were they placed there for a purpose? Perhaps it was all meant to trick her into getting shot.

The cloud of bullets and laser fire was descending on her fast as the guns changed angles. She frantically ran for a wall on the opposite end of the gym, using the pillar nearest to her as cover. She inched her leg out to make another run for the wall, but withdrew it immediately as a laser beam flashed by. It singed the skin on her kneecap, leaving an angry red welt.

Projectiles thudded into the pillar above her. The guns behind her were angling themselves down again. There must have been a pattern. They weren't moving randomly. She watched the guns firing bullets and the ones firing lasers. The bullets seemed to all be coming from the ceiling, or from the half of the gym with the scientists and the window. The lasers took over the other half of the gym wall, and were placed on the floor. But they swiveled and changed angles, moving left to right, some circling, and some never moving at all. It was dizzying. A bullet whizzed by her left ear, shocking her. It was time to move.

She waited with all her restraint for the projectiles to change, opening a tunnel. She hoped she had timed it right. Iris pumped her legs and stayed low to the ground, her eyes on the wall. A laser turret trained on her—it had sensed her movement—and fired. The beam tore through her hair, singing it off, and burned a hole in the shirt on her back. She didn't stop running until she had reached the wall, hunkering down behind it. Despite not having eaten anything for almost three days, or having a proper drink, adrenaline kept her alert. But she knew that wouldn't last long. Eventually her body would run out of stores and she'd have no energy for whatever they forced her to do. But right now she had to survive.

She waited for the guns to start turning toward her again, and she bolted for the laser turret. As the turret spun to fire at her, she jumped, and the laser adjusted its angle, firing. The laser beam missed her, but it struck the gun up on the wall, disabling it. Another gun fired and took out the turret. So, that was the system. She had to use the lasers that sensed movement to take out the guns. But there were way more guns than there were lasers. She ran towards the pillars, putting her back against one and moving slowly in a circle to escape fire. She heard a laser beam ping and glanced up. There were mirrors on the sides of the pillars.

Iris followed their angles with her eyes and ducked and dodged her way across the pillar field. A bullet grazed her arm, and another embedded itself in her shin, a searing pain radiating from the wound. She gritted her teeth and kept running until she reached the end of the pillar field. She found the first mirror, and the laser turret turned on her. She spun out of the way as the beam struck the mirror, bounced off the next mirror, and the next, darting through the maze of pillars until the final one flung it at a rack of guns hanging from the ceiling. The rack exploded, gun parts raining down as Iris ran for another wall, her injured leg slowing her significantly.

She collapsed to the floor, clutching her thigh, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as her brain and muscles fought for oxygen. She had to concentrate on something else, not the pain, which was worsening every second. Bullets continued to fire at her from the wall, but now she could make some sense of the pattern. She limped out to the nearest laser until she was at an angle facing another gun on the wall, and fell to the floor just before the turret fired. It struck the gun, but the gun didn't take out the turret like last time. The laser fired at her again, and Iris rolled onto her injured leg. This time the pain traveled through her body as the bullet drove deeper into her muscle.

A scream erupted from her lungs. She heard it escape from her mouth, raw and animalistic, and couldn't believe the sound. She had never screamed like that before in her life. The turret trained on her once again, she saw the tip of it focus on her head, and she braced herself for the end. Before it came, she noticed a piece of shrapnel from the rack laying within reach. Her hand shot out, grabbed the chunk of metal, and she threw it with all her strength up in the air. The laser whipped up and fired at the shrapnel, exploding it into a thousand tiny shards.

Iris crawled out of the way, found another piece of shrapnel, and threw it again, this time at another laser embedded in the wall. The turret on the ground took it out, and Iris was able to roll and seize another piece, but it was the last one within reach. In a split second decision, she threw it at the turret, which struck the opening. The laser fired, exploding the end of the barrel. When the laser fired again, the turret exploded and the laser self-destructed.

Iris was no longer within range of any of the projectiles. She rolled over onto her back and lay there, gasping for breath, her hand clamped down on her bleeding wound. The projectiles stopped. The guns and lasers collapsed back into the walls, the ceiling, the floor. The scientists marched into the gym, but Iris was ready for them. She rolled up and stood shakily, limping her way towards the door. The white-coats surrounded her, Hodges standing directly in her way.

"Move," she told him. "Or I'll kill you."

Hodges threw back his head and laughed, a deep, bellowing laugh that had him clutching his sides. Iris lunged for him, her crippled leg gave out, and she fell, caught herself with her good leg, and tackled him. Her hands found his throat and before she knew what she was doing she was squeezing his windpipe, her grip slippery with her own blood. Hodges grabbed at her arms, trying to pull her off, making gurgling sounds. Iris squeezed tighter. A white-coat lowered a needle towards her arm, but she raised one hand and slapped it out of his fingers.

"How do you like it, huh asshole? HOW DO YOU LIKE BEING ON THE OTHER SIDE?" She saw his eyes widen when he realized she wasn't going to let go. The other scientists were pulling at her, trying to tear her off of him, but her grip was too strong. Hodges's body began to weaken. His hands relaxed and his eyes rolled up into his head.

A soft voice, filled with bells, the voice that carried the water, whispered in her ear, _Are you going to kill him, Iris? Kill him like Sephiroth killed me? _

It dawned on her, what she was about to do, what she had been ready to commit. She let go and shook her head.

"Idiot," she muttered, climbing off of him, "like I'd stoop to your level."

Hodges coughed incessantly, turning onto his side. He hacked until he was even bluer in the face than before. His glasses slid off and one of the white-coats picked them up, placing them back on.

"That will be quite enough," Professor Nox's voice soared from the entrance to the gym. While Iris turned to look at her, a needle pricked her arm. Before the drug took effect, she stood up and began to limp over to the Professor.

"He's still alive!" one of the white-coats shouted.

"Yes, thank you, I can hear that," Nox replied as Hodges gagged and wheezed. "But I'm curious, 931, before we drug you again—why'd you let him live?"

"Because I want to see the look on his face when I get out of here," Iris said.

Nox frowned. "Dear girl, surely you've realized there's no escaping?"

"And a second ago old Hodges here thought I wasn't a threat," Iris said, leaning on her good leg. She kept stalking towards Nox, thinking she'd like to aim a good kick at her.

"If you want that bullet removed, you had better sit down," Nox threatened. The gil chips had been thrown on the table. Iris knew by now that the sadistic woman wasn't kidding. She lowered herself to the floor and sat there, feeling slightly better listening to Hodges cough and gag. Nox walked right up to her and knelt by her side, til they were face to face, and Iris could smell the coffee on her breath.

"There now, that's a good specimen," Nox purred, stroking her hair. "I knew you'd listen to reason eventually."

Iris held her tongue. Eventually the scientists came over to tend to her, and they loaded her up with three doses of sedative. Her mind drifted in another place, floating above her body as she watched one of the white-coats take a pair of tweezers and dig the bullet out of her leg.

"This will require Mako treatment," Nox told him. "Get her on a gurney and submerge her in the tank, five minutes, at 30% strength."

"Yes, Professor."

_Not that_, Iris thought. She didn't want to face her dreams again. But as they pulled her onto a gurney and lifted her up, carrying her to the Mako chamber, she knew it was inevitable. The scientists stopped moving. She felt cool water rush over her head and she was out yet again.

* * *

><p>This time, she dreamed of flying. She traveled miles per second, the lands and the oceans rushing beneath her, flying at speeds greater than she had ever known possible. She crossed the ocean and came to an island, surrounded by a vast and tangled jungle, where a black fortress rose from the tree line. Crimson fires burned behind the windows. Shadow phantoms passed in front of the stained glass. She drifted past the entrance, beneath a wickedly spiked portcullis, and floated down winding stone hallways. Torturous sounds greeted her ears—screams, chants, and the smell of burning flesh and incense. She passed open doors where red and black candles burned and the black phantoms meditated or sipped concoctions brewed from the blood of animals and humans both. She rose up a set up double stairs and came to a grand balcony where a man in a dark cloak stood with his back to her, his hands on the balcony's edge, gazing at the full moon intently.<p>

Iris hovered behind him. From the corner of her eye, she saw her mother, also afloat, her clothes and hair drifting out from her like seaweed. A ghost, like her, but somehow mother was different. She was even less solid than a ghost, if a ghost was solid at all—she was a projection, growing fainter every second. Whatever light source created her was slowly weakening.

"Mom!" Iris cried, reaching for her. She couldn't move fast enough. "Don't leave me! Tell me where you are!"

"Beware…" her mother said, pointing to the man in black. He turned around, revealing a scarred, skeletal face and red eyes that burned with madness. "Look well, Iris. Beware of this man…beware…the black castle to the south. Find him…before it's too late."

The man in black saw Iris, saw her mother, and his face twisted into a mask of fury. He swooped towards her mother and Iris watched powerlessly as he struck her across the face. Her mother's head spun at a horrid angle. Iris tried to yell at the man, but she couldn't find her voice. The man turned and regarded her with hatred as he raised his sleeves high. He spun his cloak, round and round, creating a vortex. The current from it carried Iris away, flinging her from the castle, until she fell back into her body and awoke in her cell drenched in sweat.


	11. Reunion

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 11: Reunion

_I close my eyes and I see a freak, I think it's me and I'm afraid to speak  
>I keep on going from week to week,<br>This way out in a line.  
>I dream of lives we could have had before,<em>

_The heater's broke down, open doorways.  
>Friends of yours will tell me more,<br>What happens in your mind?_

_Can we try and take the high road though we don't know where it ends,_  
><em>I want to be your crystal baller,<em>  
><em>I want to show you how it ends<em>

-"Crystal Baller," Third Eye Blind

The weeks that passed sifted by, not in days or minutes or hours to Iris, but in the number of times she was wounded, knocked out, and put in the Mako tank for recovery. She tracked time in empty food bowls and how long it was taking her singed hair to grow back. The Zenith scientists pitted her against a new enemy in the gymnasium as soon as she recovered from the previous fight. And each time they did so, she found it harder to fight mentally, but easier on her body. She was fueled mostly by anger and contempt for her captors. And, somewhere in the back of her mind, the hope that her mother was still alive, though it was a feeble and weak thing.

Lashing out at the white-coats did absolutely nothing; it only meant more punishments from Nox. So she stuck to her "lessons," as they were calling them, and tried to learn as much as she could. They even gave her a unique set of training garments to wear, consisting of some kind of skin-tight black bodysuit with silver cuffs on the ankles and wrists, along with a gray, sleeveless fitted smock to cover her torso and a pair of simple, ankle-high boots with good traction. The whole bloody time, no one said a word as to what they wanted from her. They just expected her to fight.

More than once, she had thought about jumping the guards and running for it. But where would she run to? How would she get out? She lay on her mattress, twisting a piece of hair and staring into nothing. Maybe it would be better to run. Take out a few of them on her way, with the new tricks they had taught her. And when they finally brought out the actual guns instead of the darts, she would keep running, never looking back.

_That's what I'm good at, after all. Running away._

She rubbed her eyes, refusing to sleep. Her mind was tired, immeasurably so, despite all the hours she had to rest. The Mako treatments enhanced her body, made her agile and strong, in the best physical fighting condition she had ever experienced. Nox was trying to build her body and break her mind, that much was evident. In addition to the training, she underwent daily, what Iris privately called "brain soup sessions," in which they attached electrodes to her head, strapped her to a bolted-down chair, and forced her eyeballs wide open with clamps so she could watch a video that streamed absolute garbage.

It was, from what she could gather, a promotional short film featuring Zenith Inc.'s ideals—loyalty, patriotism to Neo Midgar, and Nox's favorite thing, total obedience and self-sacrifice. Images flashed on the screen so fast that she could barely make sense of them. She'd seen Zenith Infantry soldiers running into battle, a mournful yet proud theme playing in the background, of bombs dropping on the "enemy", of school children saluting Neo Midgar's flag and the Zenith logo, of proud men going to work in Zenith factories and returning home from wars, to their housewives, modest, humble creatures with dinner waiting and perfectly obedient children. It made Iris physically ill some days, and they wouldn't stop the video, they would force her to sit there in her own sick.

She couldn't help it when she started seeing flashes in her sleep. They came stealthily at first, usually when she was having a good dream. She would be getting close to finding her mother, or she'd find a key to a secret door and escape her cell, but just as her mother was within reach, just as the door was about to open, that gods-awful Neo Midgar stoic theme would start playing and she'd look to the sky and see a missile falling on top of her and mother, or she'd step through the door, plummet hundreds of feet, and land directly into a bloody battlefield. The worst part about the latter was that she _liked_ it. She felt the bullets thud the ground, the blasts of energy from the bombs, absorbing everything, the emotions, the death, the adrenaline, flying way ahead of everything and everyone, smashing down anything in her path with bursts of magic and lightning that flew from her fingertips, leaving behind a wake of carnage and destruction.

Her stomach growled miserably. She hadn't eaten for a day and a half. Nox had ordered her food rations cut, for the umpteenth time, because Iris had broken free of one of the arm straps during a brain soup session. She closed her eyes for darkness and brought her knees up to her chest. One of the guards outside her cell shouted gruffly, something about a power outage and what sounded like "Damn Lyndon and his budget cuts." She opened her eyes to darkness, and for a second thought she had gone blind, until the guard's words registered. The power was out?

Well, that was intriguing. She got up and padded to the door as quietly as she could, placing her ear against the cool metal. Silence in the hallway. She found the line where the two halves of the door joined together and tried pulling. Nothing. Of course it would have an emergency lock in case of a power outage—couldn't have freedom-crazed specimens running around, could they?

Still, she wouldn't be a Strife if she didn't try to escape. Iris shoved her shoulder into the right half of the door and pushed. The only thing that did was agitate a freshly healed wound on her shoulder. She went over to her bunk and retrieved a metal slat that she had discovered had broken off during one of her many freak-outs. And here she thought she'd never get to use it. She pushed at the doors again.

_Don't tell me you survived all those horrific sessions, just to be defeated by a door_, said a voice in her head. She'd never heard it before. It certainly hadn't been hers. And it certainly didn't surprise her that she was hearing voices now, either. All the more reason for her to check out of this hellish loony bin.

"Come on, you bastards…" she muttered. She put all her strength and weight into it, and at last the door budged slightly. She jammed the slat into the space and applied counterweight by pulling back. For a brief instant, the flicker of hope sparked into a flame. She put a boot up against the door and pushed while pulling on the slat. Too much pressure—the slat broke off in her fingertips, flinging her backwards. She caught herself before she nearly tripped over her toilet.

"GODS DAMN IT!" Iris swore, throwing the broken metal bit with a clang. She pounded the door with her fists. She threw her head back and bellowed, "Let me out, you assholes! LET ME OUT!"

"Stand back!" someone roared from the other end of the door. Judging by all the noise, she guessed there were at least two guards, at the most four.

"Get the hell away from me!" Iris shrieked. She grabbed the nearest weapon, the broken toilet seat, and prepared to hurl it at the guards, who were surely coming in to dart her and repair the doors while she slept. She had no intention of waking up to this cell. Not now, not ever again.

A small explosion lit up the darkness. Between the ringing in her ears, she could make out someone with a flashlight strapped to their head inserting a jack inside the hole that had appeared in the center of the door. Another person cranked the lever and the jack forced the halves of the door open with a grating screech.

The lights powered back on. Iris blinked away black dots that swam in her vision and when it cleared, she gasped. The toilet seat lid clattered to the floor.

"Is it really you?" she stammered.

Amon laughed briskly. "Yeah, it's me. Were you really gonna attack me with a toi-" But his words were cut off as Iris launched forward and hugged him tightly around the neck. Over his shoulder (his good one), she saw a tall, brawny man lift his orange repairman's cap, his dreadlocks falling down his back. He took out a rag and wiped sweat from his brow.

She hesitated and said, "Ten?"

"Hey, kid. Glad to see you in one piece." Ten nodded and tucked his dreadlocks back into his hat. They were both dressed in orange jumpsuits, so different from their usual attire that it was no wonder she hadn't recognized them at first, not to mention the who-knew-how-many weeks of confinement she had faced.

Amon made a gurgling sound and started prying her hands free. She let go of his neck and stared at them with genuine fear and concern. "How long…has it been?"

He was keeping something from her, she was sure of it. Amon held a gloved finger to his lips and said, in a low voice, "Not now."

"But my mother-" she stammered.

"I'll tell you everything once we're safe," he said.

"Shhh!" Ten remained at the entrance to her cell, shifting his gaze left and right. He rasped, "We better clear outta here soon. C'mon, time to move on with the rest of the plan."

"What does he mean?" Iris asked. She stepped out of her cell, into the hallway, as though she had never been there before. Her newfound excitement quickly diminished as Ten pulled up a cart loaded with supplies and tools, but she only saw the compact yellow trash bin, one that they wouldn't have lugged down here unless…

"You want me…to hide in THAT?"

"I see your pride hasn't been damaged," Amon muttered.

"That's degrading."

"Ain't no time to argue, _princess_. Now get in!" Ten hissed, "And don' make a sound 'til we say so. Plan A is to sneak out of her with you in this. Plan B…well you know what Plan B is."

Iris smirked. "Kick some ass and hope you don't die?"

"You got it."

"Could we skip to Plan B now?"

"Get. In. The trash." Ten said through clenched teeth. "You have no idea what we went through to get here."

"Oh, what _you_ went through. Excuse _me_." She stepped onto the cart and hoisted a foot into the bin, then the other. While she climbed inside, Amon adjusted the sleeve of his jumpsuit, which covered his cybernetic arm. Ten checked something in his breast pocket. He rummaged in the cart, lifting up rolls of cable and tape and wiring. He retrieved several throwing knives and tucked them snugly into his breast pocket. There was so much Iris wanted to say, wanted to ask, and she found holding her tongue extremely difficult. But the gravity of the situation was not lost on her. She folded up into a ball and Amon went to lower the lid. He paused when he saw the strained expression on her face.

"Hang in there," he whispered. "We'll get through this."

"I knew you'd come," was all she said before the lid went down. Then, "Eugh! It smells like a dead Cactuar in here!"

"Shhh! We're gonna roll out now and head for the main elevator," Ten said, then, out of the side of his mouth, "They got that power back on mighty fast."

"The guards'll be in any minute," Amon replied. "And a hell of a lot more than those two we knocked out. C'mon."

Iris felt the cart start to roll beneath her. Her ears were primed for the slightest noise, but all she heard were Amon's and Ten's footsteps. Then, gradually, more footsteps, and she heard the collective chatter of a flock of white-coats. Iris tensed, but the group walked right past them, deliberating about loss of data and wide-scale outage predictions.

_The brightest minds of our day,_ Iris thought darkly, _but they can't see what's right under their noises._

"Heh, what'd I tell ya about these disguises? No one gives a damn about the repair guys," Ten chuckled. They continued to push her along, and the agonizingly slow pace was all Iris could take. Her back was sore and her legs were cramping up, and it was hot as Cosmo Canyon inside the trashcan. She literally felt like she could burst at any second.

"You two!" a guard hailed. She heard, or imagined she heard, Ten and Amon suck in their breath. She also detected at least three sets of boots running over to them. "Let me see your clearance badges, both of you," one of the guards ordered, a man with a scratchy voice.

"All right," Ten told him. "No need to point those at us. We're just here to replace some wirin'."

"And yours," the scratchy-voiced guard barked.

"Here," said Amon. A scanner beeped twice.

A female guard said, "These IDs check out, but they're on the wrong floor."

Ten defended, "We have access to all sublevels one through twenty-five, with the exception of Zone 2 on sublevel thirteen."

"We can see that in the report. What've you got in here?" the female guard asked, and Iris heard her start to rummage through a box dangerously close to where she was sitting. Sweat trickled down her temples.

"Electrical equipment, some of it is _highly_ _fragile_," Amon said tersely as someone shuffled more things around. Whoever it was stopped. Amon added, "We just wanted to see what the outage was about. But the power's back on, so we'll be going back up."

"Son, I wasn't born yesterday," the first guard growled. "You're coming with us. Both of you."

Ten said, "What? Why?"

"Recent thefts from the laboratories, very valuable, easily-swiped equipment," the female guard said. "A quick search of your inventory, and then we'll send you off. If you're innocent you've got nothing to worry about."

"Yeah," Ten grunted. "That's the problem."

One of the guards shouted and Amon cursed. Iris heard a crunch as someone's fist met someone's face. Someone moaned and collapsed. The other two guards swore and fired their weapons, then Iris heard a wet hiss of an artery bursting and blood dripping on the floor. Another crack of metal-on-skull, and the hallway was silent.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

"Shhh!"

"Wha'd I tell you!" Ten snapped. "Hurry up and get that armor, man."

"Almost done," Amon said. He threw a bunch of stuff onto the cart and they pushed onward, this time faster than before. They were practically running, but came to a sudden stop that rattled her inside the bin. _Ding!_ They'd reached the elevators. She exhaled with relief. The doors shut and Amon lifted the lid off the trashcan. Iris gasped for breath and arose shakily from her rather unpleasant confinement.

"This ride's gonna take a while. The sublevels are separated by several stories of supports, concrete, and other things," Ten said.

"What kinds of things?" Iris asked.

"Secret tunnels, compartments, storage vaults. Things leftover from Deepground. Here." Amon handed her part of a set of white and silver body armor. "Put that on. If anyone asks, you're escorting us to our assignment on sublevel four."

"Okay." She pulled on a set of baggy gray fatigues, then went about the task of strapping on all the female guard's body armor. When she was finished, she realized the woman must have been bulkier than her, because the armor sagged even though she had pulled the straps down to the last peg. Then she noticed Amon and Ten were giving her funny looks.

"What?" She raised her eyebrows. Then, in the reflective surface of the elevator wall, she saw herself looking back at them. Her cheekbones jumped out at her, and dark shadows had formed under her eyes. She could see her collarbone through a gap in the armor, a gap that wouldn't have been there, were she not so gaunt. Her skin had turned extra pale as well. And her eyes…they stood out the most, the teal coloring practically glowing.

"Oh gods," Iris breathed. "I look like hell."

"What did they do to you?" Amon asked, digging in his pocket for something. He handed her a granola bar. "Sorry, that's all we got 'til we get to the rendezvous point."

Iris ate it in a few quick, greedy bites. She made a face and tossed the wrapper in the bin, then leaned against the elevator wall and said, "They starved me when I wouldn't obey. And they…no, never mind."

"We understand if you don't wanna talk about it," Ten grunted. "But did they do…things?"

"Yo! She doesn't wanna talk about it," Amon said. Iris was about to say something when the floor vibrated and the elevator came to a swift halt that shook her brains inside her skull.

"Shit." Ten banged on the wall with his fist. "They know we're in here."

"Great!" Iris said. "What do we do now?"

They scanned the walls, the floor, the ceiling. The doors wouldn't budge, not even with Amon's arm at full pressure, and they had only brought one explosive.

"It's only a matter of time before they bring this to the next floor and arrest us," Amon said, looking up at the ceiling. "Which means we only have one option."

Ten knelt down, hoisting Iris onto his shoulders. She pounded at a hatch in the ceiling. One well-placed thrust with her palm and the hatch gave way. She poked her fingers through a grid and removed it, then stood on Ten's shoulders and climbed into a dark and dank elevator shaft, lit only by dull blue construction lights. Somewhere above her, wind moaned shrilly through an open space. She helped pull Amon up next, who crouched by her and said,

"Shit, for someone who's been starved, you seem to have gotten a lot stronger. What'd they do, pump you full of steroids?"

"Very funny," Iris muttered.

"Ay!" Ten hollered. "I'm still down here!"

"Help me pull his heavy ass up," Amon said. Ten, reluctantly balanced on the turned-over trash bin, reached for their hands and they began to pull. Ten squeezed his broad shoulders through the hatch door and flopped onto the roof. Iris couldn't resist a giggle. He eyed her, flustered, and got to his feet, dusting himself off.

"Now where the hell do we go?" he asked.

"You guys mean you didn't look into this before coming here?" Iris said, pinching the skin between her eyebrows.

"They don't exactly have the Zenith Headquarters blueprints on public record, you know," Amon snapped.

"Shaddap!" Ten shouted. He pointed to some oily pipes that ran the length of the shaft. "Get climbing. You first, blondie."

She didn't have to be told twice and started scrabbling up the pipes.

"Damn girl climbs like a monkey," Ten observed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"She never used to," Amon said, watching her climb with curiosity. He started after her, his hand slipping on some oil. For a moment he hung on by his human arm, but he swung his legs against the wall and got a better grip. Ten followed behind, doing much better now that he didn't have to worm his bulk through a tiny hatchway.

Iris came to a platform, what she assumed was the next floor up. Instead of a hallway, there was a dropdown door with giant red letters that read "WARNING: NO UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS."

"Uh, you guys," she glanced back down the elevator shaft. Amon joined her on the ledge and held out a hand to Ten, who swatted his hand away and lifted himself up.

Iris took a few steps toward the door. "Is this that 'Zone 2' I heard you mention?"

"Look out!" Amon barked. She leapt back just as a laser protruded from the ceiling and blasted the floor where she had been standing, leaving a black smudge. Ten whipped out a knife and flicked it expertly, severing the cable that powered the laser. He walked over, jumped, and snatched his knife back, stashing it in a pocket.

"Thanks," Iris said, turning to Amon. "Now, what about this door?"

"We're not going to get through unless we have clearance," he told her.

"I got your clearance," Iris said, pounding on a ventilation grid. She popped it out and started to climb in. Someone grabbed her ankles and pulled her back out. She met Ten's glaring face and shrugged.

"Now hold up," he said. "We can climb to the next floor if we take our time. We dunno where that thing leads."

"We don't know how far the climb is," she said earnestly. "Come on, Ten. You can do it. Amon, you're with me on this, right?"

Amon shrugged and said, "Either way is a coin toss now. We don't know what's waiting for us."

Ten groused, sighing heavily, but as he watched Amon's boots disappear, he lowered himself into the vent. After a few yards of crawling on their bellies (and much lamenting from Ten), the vent mercifully opened up so they could go at a crouch. Ten's shoulders still scraped against the walls.

"While we're in here," Iris huffed, "someone want to tell me what's going on?"

"You missed a lot," Amon said between breaths, "After you were taken, I rushed back to Neo Midgar. But then there was this earthquake…" And he recapped the story of the quake, telling her about the strange barrier that appeared on the Northern Continent. They'd heard rumors about a mass exodus of soldiers from the WRO and Zenith both, though it was unclear if they were all headed north or elsewhere. Iris, she concluded, had been in the Mako tank during the quake. Then he told her how Ten had used some business connections to get them a deal at Wall Market, where he eventually fixed his arm.

"Took three days to fix my freakin' arm," Amon said. "The rest of the time, we had to use some of Ten's connections to get clearance into this place. Even after I sold all those weapons we took from those thieves, we were short on funds. It took about a week to come up with the money, and then we had to get the right contacts, make plans…"

Ten added, "He drove me nuts, every day just talking about busting into Zenith Headquarters to come and get you like some kinda hero. Everyone knows you don't just break into the world's biggest corporation."

Amon continued, "Eventually we got the fake IDs, and took care of the two guys who were supposed to come—don't take that wrong way, we didn't kill them or anything, just reassigned them without Zenith personnel knowing. After we got the uniforms and, er, borrowed a supply cart, well, there you have it."

"Right," Iris said distractedly, watching her step as the tunnel descended, then stopping in her tracks before a hole, where light shined up from the bottom, bringing in fresh air. They had reached the end of the vent. She whispered, "And what news about my mother? Did you hear from…from my father, or Kaito?"

"Your dad called me shortly after the attack," Ten said quietly. His view was blocked by Amon and he didn't see Iris tense at the mentioning of her father contacting him. "I told Gale I was already trying to find you. He's recovering…but he can't do much. Kaito has taken the best students from the Goddess Clan and is leading a search for your mother."

"And?"

Amon sighed. "We don't have much of a lead on her whereabouts. You know Kaito doesn't speak to me, either." He put a hand on her shoulder when he saw her falter. "Hey, don't worry. We'll start looking as soon as we escape."

"I know," Iris said quietly, hugging her arms to her chest as she shivered. This whole ordeal wouldn't have been such if they hadn't banished themselves from Solstice. But what gave Kaito the right to search for her mother and completely ignore her, never mind the fact that she had been taken by the Turks? She said, "It's not that I've lost hope…not entirely. This force field over the Northern Continent, I have a feeling it has something to do with my mother. I've been having strange dreams..."

"How do you figure?" Ten asked. "The media say it ain't the Black Wings. They don't know what it is…buncha bullshit. Of course they know what it is…hey, did you hear anything, the scientists say anything to you about that big glowin' thing?"

"No," Iris said darkly. "They were too busy trying to kill me or brainwash me."

Ten fell silent, and Amon said, "I don't know about you guys, but I've had enough of this fuckin' tunnel."

"Agreed," Iris said. Being the smallest, she shimmied down the chute and peered through the grid at what appeared to be a kind of storage room, populated mostly by elongated cylinders. It was lit by low-energy lights and looked like nobody had used it in a long time. When they had all emerged from the vent, Amon and Ten headed for the exit, but something kept Iris behind. She made her way past several of the containers, which appeared to be hooked up to old machinery—a generator of some kind, or a monitoring device.

"Oy!" Ten rasped. "Get your skinny ass over here. What're you doing?"

Iris's legs moved of their own volition to a cylinder with a glass window. She peered down at it and pressed a button, lighting up the contents inside. There was nothing except murky, gelatinous liquid (embalming fluid?). Were these failed experiments, doomed forever to this tomb? Feeling foolish, and slightly disgusted, she clicked the light off and turned around, coming nearly face-to-face with a man. A dead one. Her breath caught in her throat. She barely heard Amon run up behind her.

"Hey, Ten heard something. Let's get moving."

Iris stared at the man, barely hearing Amon's words. She had expected something gruesome, a tortured hybrid of metal and flesh, like the monsters she had fought, but not this. The man's eyes were closed, his face relaxed. He could have been sleeping peacefully. The angular face was expertly sculpted, the eyebrows thin and sharp, the nose, high cheekbones, and lips nearly perfectly symmetrical. Silvery white bangs fell down his temples and his long hair flowed over what she could see of his pale shoulders. Even in the cloudy water, she could see his face so clearly, and she felt something ancient and powerful stir inside of her. She wanted to get closer...peer inside...

Then a pair of strong hands clasped her arms and shook her.

"Hey!" Amon said. "Enough with the stiff. Let's go!"

Iris jerked out of her reverie, back into reality. Just in time for three patrol hounds to bound into the room on their elongated legs, waving their poisonous tentacles and snarling, revealing curved, black teeth, their yellow eyes reduced to slits. Somewhere down the hall, Ten cried out in rage or in pain, and Iris's fingers slowly curled into fists.


	12. Eye for an Eye

(A/N: Oh, I have been a busy, busy bee, good people who are reading this. I've gone and made a video trailer using clips from the FF7 series, as well as other anime and games, for this story.

If you want to watch, the link is in the description on my profile page. Don't forget to like and leave a comment! :) )

* * *

><p>FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum<p>

Chapter 12: Eye for an Eye

The hounds charged them head-on, their sleek, powerful bodies dashing across the floor. The leader launched itself onto Amon, biting and snarling savagely. Amon raised his left arm and the creature bit into solid metal, but that didn't stop it from jerking its head back and forth, trying to tear it off.

"Oh no you don't!" Amon said through gritted teeth, fighting against a hundred and twenty pounds of rage and fur. "I just had this fuckin' thing repaired!"

Their brute strength was surprising from creatures with such lean bodies. One miscalculated move and they'd rip their skin to pieces, or stun them with their tentacles, then do the ripping and tearing. Neither was an appealing option. Iris dealt a neck-breaking kick to the monster closest to her, its electricity-charged tentacle barely missing her leg. Amon tossed the hound off of him. It landed on its feet against one of the storage cylinders, its paws activating the buttons on the control panel, dropping to the floor on all fours. Steam erupted from the cylinder as it came back to life, the glass lighting up and the generator humming, kicking up dust. For a moment, Amon lost sight of the hound. Then it came leaping out of the mist to his left. He dodged and landed a punch that hollowed out the creature's chest cavity with a dull crack. The beast didn't make a sound as it fell over, twitching.

The last hound had disappeared into the mist. The silence, along with the cylinders and their strange contents, gave the room a graveyard effect. Iris called out, "Ten! You okay?"

No response. She and Amon stuck close together. The thick mist coated the floor, as it did at the dry ice bars downtown.

"What the hell did that thing do?" Amon muttered.

"Activated that storage container," Iris whispered. "No…I think these are cryogenic containers."

"Frozen people? Sick."

"Yeah, I think these TV-dinners are actually old experiments put into 'storage'," Iris said, making quotations with her fingers. Amon snorted, saying,

"How can you _store_ a _person_? Man, I thought Zenith was supposed to be different, but it's just like those old stories about Shinra and Deepground. Even the WRO's corrupt these days."

"Yeah, well, I'm living proof now that they haven't changed. The sooner we get outta this room, and this hellhole of a company, the better," Iris said with a shudder. She caught a glimpse of glowing eyes darting behind one of the containers. Amon's blade flashed and he held his left arm in a protective position out in front of his chest. They slowly made their way towards the exit, Amon watching the front and Iris protecting his back.

"You never did say how you knew I was at Zenith," she said offhandedly over her shoulder.

"Let's just say I know a good hacker who was able to obtain some information," Amon replied.

"Yeah, but at what price?"

"Will ya quit worrying about? I-"

With a high-pitched howl, the final hound burst out of the mist between two cryo-tubes. Iris saw the creature's glowing eyes, the sparking end of the tentacle cracking back and forth. Amon moved forward to counterattack, but she was way ahead of him, running at full speed. She jumped and came down on its spine with her fist. The creature's back broke in two and it was flung mid-run, the force of her blow driving it clear into the wall with a bang.

Amon stared at her as if she had just bitten the thing's head off with her own teeth.

"Since when could you do that?" he asked, the shock evident in his face. "That was…a bit excessive, don't you think?"

Iris's pulse hadn't even gone up. The whole thing felt effortless. She stared at her hands and said bewilderedly, "I dunno…they had me in those training sessions for so long…I don't know…"

Ten approached them, his uniform torn considerably but otherwise unharmed. He caught a glimpse of himself in a cryo-tube glass and tore the uniform off with one motion, hiding it behind some supply crates. His usual garments—army fatigues, combat boots, and a black jacket showing his bare, tattooed chest—were underneath. He looked at the dead hound, a mangled corpse at the base of the wall, and said, "Damn, girl. You okay?"

"I'm _fine_," Iris asserted. "But I'll be better once I get outta this place…and this city."

"Fair 'nuff." Ten shrugged and turned around, heading down the hallway. Amon said nothing else about it but he was far less talkative as they navigated the corridors, which seemed to lead deeper into the secret territory. After a few minutes they reached the end of the corridor and waited at the corner. Someone, a man, was talking over a communicator to someone else.

"I told you already, Mr. Vulpine," Hodges's voice cracked with frustration. "I've been HERE all day, working bloody overtime on this northern barrier project. No, I have no clue how she escaped, it is Z.I.'s responsibility to guard her. This floor is sealed off, I haven't heard anything. I suggest you round up those ruffians of yours and storm the place floor by floor, just leave me and MY research out of it!"

Iris grinned and walked into the round room, which appeared to be a massive computer lab and reverse-planetarium. She paused a moment to marvel at the enormous, 3D projection of the globe which hovered in a pit in the center of the lab. Amon and Ten followed her closely. Hodges faced away from them, bent over a large, flat computer screen. As Iris got closer, she saw that he was typing into what looked like a holographic jigsaw puzzle of squares, letters, and boxes. He didn't look up until she was right behind him.

"Well, well, well," Iris said. Hodges's back went rigid (the neck brace he wore from their encounter not long ago didn't help).

Hodges said, "I won't help you escape, as you're undoubtedly here for. You'll have to kill me."

"That won't be a problem. If I recall I almost finished you off before."

Hodges chuckled, still with his back to her. "Suit yourself. But you'd be throwing away valuable information if you did."

Iris's expression darkened. "What kind of information? Why should I believe you? And don't try any tricks, my friends here are better than me at spotting bullshitters."

"Your…what?" Hodges turned around, spotting Amon and Ten. He said angrily, his face reddening, "Listen you, I don't know how you breached our security, but you're not getting out!"

He pressed a button on the computer, and a door behind them slammed shut, sealing off the corridor.

"Hodges, I took you for a smarter man than that," Iris said, shaking her head. "Now you're locked in here with us." She cracked her knuckles, feeling suppressed rage at her captors welling inside of her like a maelstrom.

"And I have SO much appreciation to show you for the past few weeks." She advanced on him. She was going to savor this, his fear. She had every reason to-an eye for an eye, a leg for a leg, as they said.

Hodges glowered at her, folding his arms. "Perhaps we can make a deal."

"Don't trust this damned weasel," Ten growled. "Let's waste him, get his keys or whatever, and split."

The scientist laughed harshly. "The doors open through a fingerprint or a retina scan, not by key. You'll need me alive."

"In that case, we'll rip your eyes out and chop a finger off, and call it a day," Amon said simply. Hodges looked at them with mute horror. Amon continued, "I don't think I'd have a problem with that. Iris, is this one of the guys that experimented on you and tried to have you killed?"

"Yeah, but he's not the ring leader," Iris said. Hodges relaxed a little, until she added, "Still, it was HIS face I saw every day, just as something new and horrifying was trying to DESTROY me."

"I see by the blood on you all that you've come across our hounds," Hodges observed, wringing his hands. "Iris, tell me, how are you finding your movements? Has your speed increased? Your strength? Those Mako treatments must be paying off."

"TREATMENT!" Iris screamed, and she had him by his shirt collar, slamming him against the wall. The back of his head cracked against the metal and he winced, his injured neck causing him great pain. Ten and Amon exchanged looks.

"Iris," Ten said cautiously. "He's the only way outta here, be careful."

"Says him," Iris growled. "You're gonna answer my questions, asshole, or I'm gonna show you just how much I've IMPROVED."

"I'll…tell you…whatever…you want to know!" Hodges gasped, clawing at her wrists. Iris released him. While he adjusted his neck brace Iris said causally, "I like that new look of yours, Hodges. Really suits the kind of jelly-boned person who'd pit a human being against monsters for his own enjoyment."

"You should be thanking me," Hodges rasped. Iris twitched, but Amon's metal hand enclosed tightly around her wrist. She shook her wrist free and restrained herself, but she was far from calm, her hands shaking visibly. Hodges continued, "Nox and I both. We've given you such power…and you're going to waste it all if you leave. But I always said you were no good. It was Nox who believed in you."

"Shut up," Amon said, before Iris could say anything. He jerked his head once at the floating globe, where a blue orb was positioned over the Northern Crater. His black bangs fell across one eye, giving him a wild look. "Tell us what you know about that barrier up north. It's your project, isn't it?"

Hodges rubbed his neck and croaked, "Yes, I've been monitoring our friends up north. They've set up quite a civilization in the small amount of time they've been here."

"Who're THEY?" Ten asked. "They're responsible for the earthquake, right? What do they want?"

"It was their return that incited the quake, yes," Hodges said. "And they, as far as we can tell, are the Cetra. And we've had no communication with them, so we don't know what they want at this point."

"That's impossible," Ten cut him off. "The Cetra died out thousands of years ago. The last one was Aeris, and she was killed. By a former SHINRA aka Zenith general, too."

Hodges said waspishly, "Yes, well, the politics of that aren't my concern, although it was a horrid waste of a specimen. And she certainly isn't worthy of worship like that heathen clan you two hail from."

"Fuck you, pal!" Amon yelled. "All right, let's maim him." His arm blade ejected and he took a threatening step toward Hodges.

"No!" Hodges bellowed.

"No!" Iris echoed. "Wait. Hodges…what do you know about my mother? That was the information you were talking about, wasn't it?"

Hodges smiled. "I haven't the faintest idea of what you're asking."

"Oh yes you do!" Ten roared, removing a knife from his jacket and picking at his thumbnail with the tip of the blade. He ranted, "Those crazies want Alexa, they're gonna use her to try and bring back Sephiroth, and he's gonna destroy the world, us and the Cetra. But Mercer and his goons are probably too busy trying to start a war up north to even give a shit!"

"Ten," Amon said. "That's enough."

"I can't say what the intentions of the Black Wings are, exactly," Hodges said. "And that's the truth. They are as secretive as they are believers of nonsense. Their affairs are none of my concern."

"Enough of your lies," Iris said. "Amon, hold him down. Ten, do the honors."

Hodges kicked and struggled as Amon forced his hands behind his back, then used his own knee to pin the man's shin's down. Ten flipped the knife in the air and took off Hodges's glasses. Iris winked at them both when Hodges wasn't looking. None of them had the stomach for interrogation or torture, but Hodges didn't know that. Ten winked back and said, with extra bravado,

"I say we cut out both of Poindexter's eyes, just to be sure." He pin-pricked the corner of Hodges's eye with the knife, drawing a speck of blood. Hodges wailed as if he'd been stabbed in the temple (and lived to wail about it).

"STOP! DON'T!" Hodges bellowed pitifully. "PLEASE!"

Iris raised her voice, "Answer me straight—WHAT do you know about my mother? WHERE is she?"

"I swear, I don't know," Hodges choked. "T-that's strictly the president's business, and the T-Turks'. They're the kidnapping experts. And Bylet'h…President Mercer's advisor…the High Priest of the Black Wings!"

"WHAT?" Iris, Amon, and Ten all yelled in unison.

"N-never seen him with my own eyes, but I've heard the rumors," Hodges stammered, straining to look away from the knife so hard that his eyes seemed to be popping out of his skull. "Please, don't…put that thing away…"

Ten withdrew the knife and stashed it back in his jacket.

"One last question," Iris said, her vocal chords suddenly very tight. She had thought for sure he knew something, but even under threat of maiming, he hadn't said anything. She swallowed and said, "Then we're done. What do you know about the summons materia? What's Zenith planning on doing with it?"

"The what? I don't know," Hodges said sharply. "I thought the summons materia had all been lost or destroyed. I've no interest in legends and magic."

"Say for a second Zenith DID have it," Amon asked, "what would they want with it?"

"They'd seek to harness the materia's powers as a weapon," Hodges snapped. "Isn't that obvious? What else is materia used for? If the Cetra prove to be as powerful as we think they are, they'd have good reason to use it."

"I've heard enough," Iris said. Ten grabbed Hodges by the collar.

"I thought you said we were done!" Hodges protested.

"That don't mean we can leave you here, jerk-off!" Ten said. "Now be a good scientist and come with us."

They dragged him over to the door on the opposite end of the room. Ten had him off the ground, holding him by his collar and the belt loop of his pants. He lowered the scientist's face near the scanner like a human cardkey. The scanner read his retina signature and the doors slid open. Ten lowered Hodges back onto his feet and the scientist brushed himself off indignantly.

"Oh I've never been so happy to see an elevator," Iris sighed as they headed down a short hallway towards a private elevator.

"No elevators," Amon told her. He opened the door to the right, revealing a stairwell.

"Good idea," Ten said.

"Bad idea," Iris countered. "Elevator is faster."

"Remember last time?" Amon asked, raising his eyebrows. "Let's not have that happen again."

"FINE."

They piled inside, going up floor by floor, with Hodges in a stormy silence the entire time, the veins on his large forehead very pronounced. They were forced to stop when the stairs cut off at sublevel eight, leaving them sweating and staring at a bunch of construction tape and wooden barriers. Iris was the spriest of three, but even she had broken out in a sweat. Amon and Ten were leaning against the wall, and Hodges was doubled over, practically wretching. When they had all caught their breath, Iris asked,

"Can we bust through that construction and keep going?"

"Not if you want to live," Hodges sneered. "See those supports? They've collapse from your weight if you try and go that way. You have to cut across this sublevel and go to the main elevators. Where I daresay you'll all find a nice welcoming party for you."

"Here we go," Ten said, pulling on the door handle and ignoring Hodges. "Everybody ready? This could get really ugly."

Amon and Iris nodded. Ten opened the door. A guard spun around and raised his gun. He barely had time to make a sound as Ten's dagger embedded itself in his windpipe. Amon and Iris watched Hodges as Ten went to retrieve his weapon. Everything went quiet, but Iris was certain more guards were on their way. Sublevel eight, she noticed, was some kind of prison floor, lined with cells, all of which appeared empty. Why was it so empty? They hadn't even run into that many guards...perhaps it was as Amon had said. Maybe Z.I. had been deployed north in case the Cetra attacked. And if they were going to use the materia as a weapon...this was turning into an all-out prelude to war. As they resumed walking, Iris said to Amon,

"When we find my mother, we should go after the rest of that materia. We can't let Zenith have it."

"Right," Amon said curtly, never taking his eyes off Hodges and trying not to think about his time in captivity with the Turks. "One thing at a time though."

"Hey," Iris told him. "I never really got to say…sorry for what happened. I shouldn't have made you look."

"And I shouldn't have delivered the materia right into that Turk's greasy hands," Amon replied, with a touch of resentment. "It's no one's fault. Just drop it."

Iris reached for his arm. "Amon-"

"HEY!" a feminine voice piped from somewhere up ahead. A coffee-brown arm poked between the bars, waving frantically. "Hey, over here!"

"What now?" Ten grumbled.

They found the speaker. A young woman with long, beaded brown hair held out of her face by a bandana and with bright green eyes crouched, grasping the bars to her cell. She flashed them a broad, Cheshire-cat smile and stood up.

Ten, who had kept walking, turned around and said, "You lost your minds? We ain't got time for this!"

The woman said, "I couldn't help but overhear you talking about materia. I could help you find it, if you spring me outta this cell."

"Who says we need your help?" Amon asked.

"YO!" Ten hissed, cupping his hands to his mouth. "I hear guards comin'."

"For one thing, I'm a materia expert," the woman said quickly, her eyes lighting up at the word 'materia'. Amon showed genuine interest as well, but Iris looked as dubious as Ten.

"So?" Iris said. "There are lots of materia hunters. None of the ones I've met have had even mog's luck finding anything."

The woman shifted eye contact between Iris and Amon. She said, in a lower voice, "None of them are like me. I'm the best sailor and pilot you'll ever find. And you'll need to travel by land and sea if it's rare materia you're after. I can also navigate, and I have a crew. And a ship that can go beneath the radar, if you know what I mean."

"So, you're a pirate," Iris said flatly, turning her back on her. "Sorry, but we're pressed for time."

"Is it true?" Amon asked. "You can use materia? You know where to find it?"

"Oh yes, whole handfuls of it," she said, grinning. There was something hypnotic about her smile and the way her eyes lit up, like jade. "I would have had the ultimate collection, but those thieving bastards—the blokes in the blue suits, the Turks—they hired my services for a special mission. Lazy morons, spent half their time drinking and letting me do all the dirty work. Once they had what they needed they threw me in here. How's that for gratitude?"

"Or you tried to steal from them, and got caught," Ten growled, approaching the group. "I don't trust no pirate."

"But we could definitely use materia on the outside," Amon said to them. "I say we spring her. Any enemy of the Turks is an enemy of ours."

"He's got the keys," the woman said, pointing to the dead guard. "Please, you won't regret it. I'll make it worth your while, all of you."

"Don't like it," Ten muttered, keeping an eye on Hodges, who had inched dangerously far away from them. "Buncha bull."

Iris moved to stop Amon from retrieving the keys, but then she changed her mind. They could certainly use materia, it was true, and her curiosity had been sparked. Plus, it wasn't in her heart. The woman's situation was far too similar to what her own had been, less than an hour ago. Amon unclipped the keys from the guard's belt and unlocked her cell. The woman stepped out, stretching and sighing. She was tall, at least a head taller than Iris, and curvy beneath her baggy, yellow prisoner's uniform. But the muscles on her arms were taught and her skin was tan, and she had a tribal, flowing tattoo on her upper left arm that reminded Iris of waves.

"I knew you were the reasonable one," she told Amon, winking and extended a hand. "I'm Kaimana. Call me Kai for short."

"Amon," he said, shaking her hand with his good one. He didn't feel her eyes lower to his mechanical arm, in fact, she seemed to have missed it entirely, or had chosen to ignore it. "ER, that's Ren-Ten, and this is Iris."

"Charmed," Kai said. "And, er, who's the nerd?"

"He's useless, is what he is," Iris said. And it was decided silently, between Iris, Amon, and Ten, to leave Hodges in Kaimana's cell. The scientist cursed and groused and rattled the bars, hollering for them to come back. For the first time since they'd broken her out of her cell, Iris felt a sweet sense of poetic justice flood over her.

"Eye for an eye," Iris told Hodges as they walked away.

As they were about to turn left and head for the main elevators, Kai said, "Where are you guys going? Anywhere that way is a death trap."

"There ain't no other way," Ten said.

Kai pointed to the right. "There's another lift, where they bring the prisoners in from the bottom floor. It's a big hangar, where they store their planes after they land on the surface."

"Go farther underground? That makes no sense, lady."

"I know what she's talking about," Iris said. "And we'd probably meet fewer guards than we will on the upper levels."

"The upper levels will be locked down anyway," Amon reminded them all. "As I know from personal experience…"

"It's settled then. Plus, we could commandeer a ship," Kai said, rubbing her hands together.

"Fine. Let's just MOVE," Ten said impatiently. "We've wasted way too much time already."

"Follow me," Kai said. She led them to what looked like the door to a broom closet, but it was locked. Amon hacked into it using a wire that extended from his arm. Kai regarded him with a look of approval. Iris was too busy scanning the floor behind them for enemies to notice. They stepped onto the lift and hit the only button available. The doors shut and they began the long descent, back down into the depths of Zenith and old Deepground.

"I don't believe this," Ten said, adjusting something in the lining of his jacket. "This is crazy."

"No, breaking into Zenith is crazy," Kai said, beaming. "I admire your guts."

"Let's hope we still have 'em when we get outta here," Amon muttered.


	13. Maelstrom

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 13: Maelstrom

In the few minutes Iris had known Kaimana, she was already grateful for the pirate's presence. As the lift descended and they stood, waiting and without a real plan, and now that the repairmen stint was a bust, Kai was doing what she could to help. And it was clear to them all that she was used to being in charge.

"We want something quick, something fast," she said, smacking her clenched fist against her open palm. "As soon as we hit the deck, the guards are gonna be on us. We need a ship that's gonna take off in a hurry. A smaller plane out to do the trick, or even a hoverskiff."

"What's a hoverskiff?" Iris asked.

"Land creatures," Kai sighed, rolling her green eyes. She held up her suntanned hands parallel to one another, indicating something of a smaller size. "Basically, it's a hovercraft that travels fast, and only holds about four people. It stays low to the ground. They usually can't go higher than twenty feet."

"Z.I. should have plenty of those," Amon said. "They're used to dispatch medical teams over battlefields, right?"

"Right," Kai said. "But the fact of the matter is, we don't know what's down there. Could be all huge, military ships and planes that take an entire crew to fly. Ever since that earthquake, there's been a shortage of uniforms around here. We'll just have to take what we can get our hands on quickly."

Ten, wanting to get the last word in, said, "A'ight. As soon's this thing stops, we run like hell to the nearest flying contraption that's gonna hold our weight." He jabbed a thumb at Kai. "Then we have the pirate here get behind the controls and fly us like a bat outta Hades. Sound good?"

Iris and Amon nodded, each sharing their own private reservations about this piecemeal plan. Kai put her hands on her hips and gazed at the floor. "Would be a lot easier if I had my sword and pistol," she lamented

"We're all underprepared. Not even a potion to split between us," Iris said. She held her fists up in the air. "But as long as I have these, nobody's gonna get in my way."

Amon held his mechanical arm in the air. "That goes for me too."

"They don't call me Ten for nothin'," Ten proclaimed, pulling out a dagger and twirling it between his fingers.

Kai smirked, holding out her empty hands, shrugging. "And I can steer. Just get me to a ship…"

The lift settled on the final floor. The doors began to slide apart, and they each put a hand in the center of their collective circle.

"As my great granddaddy used to say," Ten started.

"There ain't no getting' offa this train we're on!" Amon and Iris finished. The three of them threw their hands in the air. Kai copied their movements, but couldn't help her look of confusion. Then it dawned on her.

"You're all," she said slowly, "related to the old heroes, aren't you? My grandpa used to tell me stories. Barrett Wallace…and you, with that spiky hair, could only be from Cloud, along with those eyes…and you." She turned to Amon as Iris and Ten ran out of the lift, heading down the corridor that led to the hangar.

"Me?" Amon shrugged. "Nah, I'm just a friend. I don't look back on that stuff."

He left Kai with that statement as the three of them ran ahead to hide.

"Well," she murmured, rubbing her hands together as she watched the three companions sneak onto the hangar, weaving between a maze of crates, barrels, and mechanical equipment. "This certainly makes things more interesting. I might have to stick around." She lingered behind, waited until the coast was clear, then snuck off on her mission, eyeing the small hoverskiff with the big motor on the far end of the hangar deck.

* * *

><p>Iris, Amon, and Ten snuck across the deck, which was a massive platform that could be raised to the surface for incoming and outgoing air traffic. To their surprise, aside from a few jets and the president's personal airship (its rockets made Kai stare in envy), the hangar was barren of flying craft. Iris didn't have time to wonder about it, nor did the others, as a commotion to their left caught their attention. They ducked behind a stack of supply crates and watched as a man in black and burgundy, President Mercer, was escorted by at least a dozen Z.I. guards and the Turks toward the big silver airship in the center of the hangar. Iris glanced back to see Kai duck behind a bunch of barrels.<p>

"Look!" Iris hissed. Amon and Ten followed her line of sight. Coming from another entrance was Lyall, carrying a silver case that Iris instantly remembered. He met Mercer in the center of the hangar and handed off the case to the president. Mercer bobbed his chin once, and Lyall bowed, the other Turks mimicking him.

"That's the summons materia," Amon said under his breath, clenching his mechanical hand into a ball. "I'd like to wipe that smug smile off Lyall's face."

"Shhh," Ten hissed. The president made a b-line for his ship. Mercer took to the collapsible stairs leading up into the hull.

"I'm coming back for those, you hear me?" Amon growled, failing to restrain his anger as he glared at the president's ship.

"Shush!" Iris nudged him sharply with her elbow. She pointed in the direction Kai had gone. Before they could move, a tremendous shaking rattled the mechanical equipment and caused the lights to flicker.

"Another earthquake?" she wondered aloud.

"No, we're goin up," Ten said, pointing to the walls, which had begun to move. "C'mon, we gotta catch up with Kaimana."

They started for the pile of barrels. Iris and Ten made it. As Amon started to run, something black and effervescent shot like an arrow and struck him in the chest, flinging him off his feet.

Iris and Ten ran out from their cover, stopping just a few yards shy of Lyall and Ace. Two tendrils of dark energy emerged from Lyall's shoulders like wings. Ace shuffled a deck of playing cards in his hands. Amon slowly got to his feet, rubbing his side.

Lyall leered at Amon, regarding the orange jumpsuit and nametag. "I should have known you'd hold to that silly promise," he said.

Amon's arm blade ejected and he raised its edge to Lyall in salute. "Here's another promise—I'm going to chop off that ugly head of yours and mount it on my wall."

"Ha." Lyall cracked his neck. The darkness around him expanded, coalescing into the form of an animal: a beast with long legs, a pointed snout, and two triangular ears. A wolf familiar, seemingly made of darkness, leapt off Lyall's shoulders and paced back and forth in front of him. Its white eyes were reduced to slits. Ten reached into his jacket calmly, muttering, "Gods, what a mess."

"We don't want to fight," Iris told them, watching the president's ship rise higher off the ground, its jets creating heat waves the size of cars. She said earnestly, "We just want to find my mother. Let us pass."

"Aww, well ain't that precious," Ace sneered. He winked at her, a strange smile playing across his face. Still looking at her, he held up a card and said, "Queen of hearts." With a flick of his fingers, it sailed through the air and landed at Iris's feet. She jumped away from the card immediately as it exploded in a flash of red, leaving a crater in the floor. Ten's dagger flew past Ace's ear, the Turk dodging in the nick of time as the blade sank into a crate behind him.

"Negotiations are out," Ten grunted. Before they could charge each other, the ceiling cranked open, revealing a dark, turbulent sky. Wind rushed into the hangar in waves. It tore at their clothes and hair and kicked up clouds of dust and trash. The strong gales howled so loudly that it made Iris clamp her hands to her ears, and the change in pressure made them pop.

Something about the Turks' grim faces filled Iris with fear. The president's airship banked directly above them, a ladder dangling from the deck. The wolf familiar ran back to its owner, swirling around Lyall and sinking into his body. Ten and Amon lingered by her side and watched as both Turks leapt onto the ladder, climbing with haste. The ship turned starboard, and for a moment Iris could see who else was on the deck. There, his white hands gripping the gunwale, was a man in black, a man whose crimson eyes glinted like two evil stars. He had no business being on the deck with the wind at such dangerous speeds, and any normal man would have been blown off like a speck of dust. It was this observation of the unnatural that sent a chill down her spine and made her remember her dream. And he was leering right at her, as if he had met her before…

She opened her mouth to yell, but no sound came out over the roaring wind. The remaining Z.I. soldiers formed lines and rushed towards them, firing nets from shoulder cannons. One came dangerously close to snagging her, but Ten snatched her out of the way in the nick of time. Before she could get her bearings, Ten pulled her in another direction, this time towards a ship that hovered a short distance away. From the helm, Kai waved at them, her nonchalant demeanor replaced with a look of severe urgency.

They ran away from the soldiers and boarded Kai's stolen hoverskiff. Once they were in and tightly gripping the handholds that lined the ship's interior, Kai accelerated and rushed in a wide arc around the soldiers. The hangar platform had reached the surface level, about three miles outside of Neo Midgar. Rain pelted them, as if they had gone under a waterfall. The hoverskiff zoomed away from the hangar pit, and from Neo Midgar, but only Kai focused on the view ahead.

Iris gazed upward, her first glance of the surface world a terrifying one. The sky churned in a dark whirlpool, forming a great maelstrom directly over Neo Midgar. High-speed winds crashed into the buildings, which were barely visible, hidden in the storm of debris. From what Iris could make of the chaos, the housing and slum districts had been completely swallowed. Tree branches, dirt, and other projectiles flew by, and she kept most of her head just below the gunwale, with Amon and Ten on either side. She felt the warmth from their bodies, and this was perhaps the only thing keeping her sane as the sky unleashed its wrath all around them. What was it? As she continued to watch, she noticed a black eye where the storm was circulating the fiercest.

_We never get hurricanes this far north_, Iris thought. No one would have been prepared…few people even had basements to hide in. And that was all she could take. She turned and watched Kai's hair wave crazily as the pirate, true to her word, skillfully navigated the hills, taking care to avoid the forest, where entire groves of trees were blown sideways as if they were blades of grass in a breeze. The skiff rode the cusp of the storm, until the winds slowed and Iris could hear the humming of the ship's engine instead of the unearthly shrieking of the hurricane. After she was able to think clearly, Iris gasped.

"Ten," she shouted. "Your wife! Your kids! Are they-"

"No!" Ten cried over the wind and the rain. "They went to stay with family in Corel about a week ago."

Iris nodded, relief flooding her senses. As the weather calmed down further, until they dealt with only rain and the occasional crack of lightning, they slowly began to relax. Kai set the skiff on autopilot. She joined their little circle and rested her hands on her knees, lifting her right hand to shake Ten's before dropping it back across her lap.

"We owe you our lives," Ten told her. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Kai breathed, exhausted. They were all dripping wet and sorry-looking, their hair hanging in their faces. Ten wrung water out of his dreadlocks. Iris looked the worse for the wear, her oversized armor practically swallowing her. She removed the heaviest of the plates and sat there, shivering.

Kai said somberly, "Navigated some rough patches before, even hurricanes such as that one, but that…well, I've never seen anything like it!"

They all peered back over the horizon, which had become an obscurity. Ahead of them, starlight shimmered over the ragged tips of mountains. Miles and miles of forest surrounded the little valley they were cruising across. Iris felt fatigue of a kind she had never known. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in a warm bed and sleep for ages.

"It's the planet retaliating against Zenith's sins," Ten said emphatically, gazing up at the stars. "Just like it did before."

"Bullshit," Amon declared, waving his good hand. "That was something to do with the Cetra." He glanced at Iris, who nodded in agreement and shivered.

"The who?" Kai looked at them like they had just spoken in a foreign language. Amon briefly explained what they had learned from Hodges about the barrier up north.

"And you think they caused that?" she asked. "The ancient Cetra? Aeris's peaceful race?"

"It has to be," Iris said simply, resting her forehead in the palm of her hand and locking her fingers in her tangled hair. "It's a warning from them. They're angry at us."

"How do you know?" Amon asked.

"I don't know how, exactly. I just feel it." She shut her eyes tight. "Why else would a hurricane have hit Neo Midgar?"

Amon shrugged. "I dunno. Global warming?"

"No," Iris said. "That was no ordinary hurricane."

"That much was evident," Kai added.

"Man, this is fucked up," Ten swore. "What'd they do that for? All those innocents…"

"They had no right," Amon added, shaking his head. "No right at all. And Zenith Inc. is gonna piss 'em off even more if they attack. They'll consider this an act of war."

"So let's go get the materia back!" Kai exclaimed, smacking her fist into her palm. "We just gotta figure out where that bloody airship went."

Iris stiffened. "No."

But Kai mistook her answer for uncertainty. "Why not? I can find 'em, believe me. And we can hire some additional guns if it's manpower you're worried about. I once had to sneak into this thieves' den…"

Iris sighed as the old weight settled on her shoulders once again. "I'm on a different search. My mother was kidnapped. But that was weeks ago. I don't even know if she's still alive…"

"Oh. I see." When Iris didn't reply, Kai turned away to check the controls on the helm's console.

Ten coughed. "Aherm! Where we headed, anyway?" he asked, changing the subject to Iris's relief.

Kai said over her shoulder, "The caverns of Whitecap Bay, just to the south of here. Where my ship and crew are waiting."

"You have your own ship?" Amon asked. "AND a crew?"

She grinned and turned away from the console again, standing up and spreading her arms wide, saying passionately, "The greatest ship on the planet. There's no other one like her. And she's manned by the best of the best."

Ten's brow furrowed. "You telling me your crew's just been hiding out? How long have you been imprisoned?"

"About a month," Kai said, batting her hand idly.

A slow smile crept onto Ten's face. "And you think they're jes' gonna wait for you in some cave or wherever you hid them?"

"They would never question my command," Kai said, with an edge to her voice. Ten folded his arms behind his neck and leaned back.

"You gonna be in for a rough shock, lady. Ain't no man that waits around THAT long for a woman, no matter how pretty she is."

Amon snickered and Kai pursed her lips. She ignored Ten's smug face and turned back to Iris, who was watching the forest. The skiff had slowed considerably, they were practically drifting in the air now. The rain had stopped as well, though there was still moisture in the air, and plenty of fog to go with it. But that was all right, it would provide cover in case anyone was searching for them.

"Where do you suppose your mum's at?" Kai asked her.

"Don't know," said Iris. "But before Amon and Ten came to break me out, I had a dream. My mother was in it. She told me to watch out for a man with red eyes and a black cape…I saw that same man on the deck of the president's ship, just before we flew away."

Amon's eyes widened and Ten sat up, startled. "You're certain of that?" Amon asked her.

Iris said defensively, "I wasn't hallucinating, if that's what you're asking."

"No, I just want you to be sure," Amon emphasized. "Things were really crazy back there…"

"I've dealt with crazy," Iris murmured, remembering the "brain soup" sessions. She felt like she was forgetting something about the man in black…but what could that be?

"Look, we're all tired here," Kai spoke up. She pulled a large duffel bag out of a compartment in the floor. "There's a tent in here, along with emergency supplies. We're still a long ways off from the caverns. Let's park it for the night and get some rest, yeah?"

"Yeah," Amon agreed. "I'm wiped."

"Same," Ten grunted.

Iris's stomach growled in answer. Kai laughed lightly and handed her a meal kit. "Don't worry, there's food here too. It's spaceman food," she said, pointing to the tinfoil package Iris held, "but it's still got what counts."

"Thanks," Iris said. She stared at the tinfoil Meal Ready to Eat (MRE), remembering a meal she had shared with Amon's father, but that felt like decades ago. Somehow she brought herself to eat the food as they landed the skiff by some trees. Amon and Ten set up the tent, which had room for all of them and then some. They covered the skiff with tree branches and brush so it wouldn't be visible from above. Kai went looking for firewood as Amon plopped down next to Iris, who had found a sleeping bag in the survival kit and had enfolded herself in it.

"You look like a leftover," Amon said, nudging her. She smiled briefly and went back to staring at the grass in front of her.

"For what it's worth," he said. "I think we're going in the right direction. Before I left Solstice, I saw Kaito and the other's tracks. It looked like they were heading south."

"You didn't hear anything else while I was…gone?" Iris asked, seizing a handful of grass and tearing it up, letting the pieces fall to the ground.

"If I knew anything," Amon said, "I'd have told you by now."

She dropped the grass and pulled the sleeping bag around her tighter. She mused aloud, "I have this feeling that I can't shake…like no matter what I do, what happened in that lab is gonna follow me forever."

"Iris," Amon said quietly, lowering his good hand on top of hers. "What happened?"

"It wasn't the fighting, or even them starving me, playing their mind games," Iris began. "You know I'm too stubborn to let that get to me. Not too deep, anyway. It was the dreams…I had such intense dreams. And the Mako…" she faltered, not sure how much more she wanted to say. Amon didn't press her, and that was why he was her best friend. He knew when to let things be. But right now, she wanted someone to ask her, someone wise, who had answers to things. She didn't think she knew anyone like that, except perhaps Uncle Kaito, and that was a laugh, now wasn't it? Well, what was she doing wishing for a psychiatrist all the way out in the sticks? She should be grateful that she hadn't been in Neo Midgar during that hurricane.

"UGH!" Ten coughed and gagged, spitting in between. He waved a small box in the air. "Gods!" he choked. "This chicken jerky tastes like wood."

"You would know," Amon jeered. Ten gave him the finger and sat down next to them, just outside the camouflage tent. Kai overheard his complaint and came over with an armful of firewood. She nodded her chin at the box in Ten's hands.

"That's tinder, not chicken," she said, grinning her contagious smile, and Iris felt one tugging at the corners of her lips. Ten fell onto his back and groaned. Amon guffawed and Kai giggled so much that she dropped the firewood. Iris, wincing from a side-stitch, grabbed the box of tinder, looking inside at the fluffy chunks of cotton and woodchips that Ten had mistaken for food.

"Not even the dumbest chocobo chick would try and eat this," Iris said.

"I'm never gonna hear the end of it," Ten grumbled.

"Mmm. Nope!" Amon said, helping Kai arrange the firewood. "Be careful Kai. Those are twigs, not beef sticks. Oh and that's a rock, not a biscuit."

Kai, not missing a beat, said, "Why thanks, Amon! I wouldn't have known were it not for your keen powers of observation."

Ten didn't feed their egos and said nothing. He had taken to fiddling with a GPS he'd retrieved from the skiff. Amon took the box of tinder from Iris and got a small flame going, which Kai fed with kindling until the fire was fully ablaze. They cooked more MREs, which tasted significantly better when heated (Amon made sure to keep the box of tinder away from Ten for the rest of the night). They were up for barely another hour before Iris crawled off to sleep, and was soon joined by Kai and Amon. She didn't hear Ten come in some time later, having waited for the fire to die down. That night, surrounded by friends, she did not dream. There was only blessed sleep.


	14. Ahead and on Our Way

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 14: Ahead and on Our Way

The following morning they packed up at sunrise, with no sounds other than the twittering of birds and the occasional low of some four-legged grazing beast. The skiff had one refill on fuel, and they wanted to make as much headway as they could, so they spent the rest of the day riding across the landscape. From her lofty view, Iris watched creatures she'd never seen before—herds of reptilians with equine bodies and tusks sunbathing on rocks, flocks of harrier birds with great purple wings and which cast Lightning at their prey to stun it, and once she even thought she had spotted a group of cybernetic, beetle-looking creatures that ran on wheels and had drills for arms and six pairs of legs. How manmade animals had managed to breed and survive out in the wild astonished her, but when she pointed this out to the others, they didn't share her amusement.

Kai, sitting at the helm, swept a hand to encompass the lands all around them, saying, "Everything outside the areas of the major cities is wild lands now. Since Meteorfall, the planet has been trying to restore itself. Even the creatures Shinra designed, though more machine than DNA, found a way to replicate themselves."

"Then why are the Cetra attacking us?" Amon asked, stretching his legs across the hoverskiff. "Civilization hasn't grown much since then. We've barely scraped by on what we have, though if you checked the salaries of certain Zenith employees, you wouldn't know it."

Ten grunted his agreement. Kaimana gazed at them intently, debating something. Finally, she said, "You want to see why?" And she veered the hoverskiff in a different direction, sailing along a dried ravine. Gradually, a dark monolith rose on the horizon. They came to the edge of a clay bank and stared miles and miles down into the ravine at the solemn object which sat like an enormous black tombstone, afloat in a sea of yellow grass.

As they squinted, trying to make it out, Kai pointed and said, "We can't get too close. But this is why the planet is still hurting."

"What is it?" Iris asked.

"An old Mako reactor."

Iris felt a chill run down her spine. Kai continued, "We can't get too close, because of the radiation. The raw Mako inside the reactor was never properly dealt with after Meteorfall, and the radiation's leaked into the atmosphere. This area won't be suitable to live in for thousands of years." She lowered her gaze and said, "I once knew a group of pirates who thought to use a reactor like this one as a hideout. Poor blokes lost their hair and were dead from cancer in less than two years."

Ten jumped. "Well what're we doing sittin' around here for?"

"Yeah!" Amon started, blue eyes widening. "You could've warned us or somethin' before you took off like that!"

Kai grabbed Amon by his shirt collar and dragged him over to the ship's control panel, pointing to a small white square. "See that? It's the ship's radiation detector. The darker the color of the square, the more we're in danger of radiation poisoning. What color is the square?"

"Uh, white?"

She let go of his shirt collar, Iris and Ten watching with bemused looks on their faces. Kai said, "Now if you all really think I'd take us into danger like that, then we're going to have serious trust issues if I'm to be your navigator."

"I think you've made your point," Amon said bluntly, flopping back onto his seat. "Only, a little warning next time would've been nice."

As they flew away from the area and back up the green, grassy hills they had come from, Ten said, "I've heard of these fallout zones. Nothin' but poisoned plants and animals for miles. Everything might look okay, but on the inside, it's deadly."

"But what about the desert encroaching on Neo Midgar?" Iris asked. "That has nothing to do with radiation."

"That one's easy. Over farming," Amon said. "My dad told me about it. Before Meteorfall, Shinra paid farmers to stay on their land and work the soil over and over, even though they kept sucking the nutrients out of the land and made fewer crops each year. Shinra tried to genetically engineer the crops to keep reproducing them, and encouraged the farmers to slash down untouched forests to replenish the soil. Eventually it created a dust-bowl effect."

"And it was the same with the sea," Kai added somberly from behind the ship's helm. "I have ancestors who were paid to fish in bulk, dragging giant nets across the seafloor, doing more harm than good."

Ten reflected, "Meteorfall might've stopped Shinra from completely destroyin' the planet, but the leftovers from their time still affect us all today. Old trash dumps, faulty reactors leakin' radiation, forgotten mine fields blowin' up at random—it all serves as a reminder of how things were. My great-granddaddy knew that. That's why he founded AVALANCHE in the first place."

"Didn't he also found the WRO?" Kai asked, steering them closer to the mountains, which were growing larger by the minute.

"No, he didn't," Ten said with a touch of bitterness. "That was Rufus Shinra and a guy named Reeve. But Granddaddy Barrett led the WRO in search of alternate energy sources. He tried to help restore things back to the way they were, using clean fuel, but there ain't no such thing as clean fuel. He traveled all around the world." Ten broke off, watching the tree line rush by.

"What happened to him?" Kai asked.

"He quit, retired in Corel with Marlene. Found a wife and gave Marlene a brother," Ten finished. "He died with his dream unfulfilled. The people of Corel tried to help him by showin' him how useful coal was, but coal's a dirty fuel too. Eventually he realized that everything that happened with Shinra, and Meteorfall—all that would happen again. Life is cyclical, or whatever." He took a swig from his canteen and grimaced. "Figures. S'empty."

"What was the turning point?" Iris wondered. "When did the WRO's good intentions go wrong?"

"I've heard stories," Ten said gravely, "about that Rufus Shinra, who built Zenith and said it was to help the WRO. Everyone thought he'd turned a new leaf. But it was all a lie."

"Someone must have suspected him?" Kai said, shaking her head. "Surely the old heroes were onto him?"

"They were as fooled as everybody else," Ten growled. "Iris, your ancestors, Cloud and Tifa, and mine, Barrett…they were all duped by that bastard. He pretended to be good, he funneled money into every operation, but it was all so he could gain control."

Amon drummed his fingers against the gunwale, agitated. "But people _knew_ what would happen if they let Zenith get out of control. Why? After all that struggle, why?"

"The hell if I know, I wasn't around back then," Ten said, bristling. "Prolly, the people couldn't handle the new lifestyle. Lots of people was getting' sick, they couldn't make antibiotics and medicine like they used to. Shit, if one of my kids got sick, I'd be in favor of a Mako reactor if it meant medicine for them."

"So it's our fault," Amon said, hanging his head. "Everyone just settled for the easier way out."

"Or they didn't have no choice," Ten added. "If it's between the survival of your family and cuttin' down a few trees to burn for firewood."

"Yeah, well clearly people don't know how to learn a lesson," Iris said heatedly. "I've always thought most people didn't give a shit about the planet. Now I know it's true."

"I don't think it's all that black and white," Kai spoke up. "There are plenty of things we don't understand. We never will, unless we lived back when the world was trying to start over."

For some reason, Iris thought of the man with silver hair in the cryogenic chamber back in the underground of Zenith. Suspended forever in time…what story would he have to tell if someone released him from his frozen tomb? Was he made in the lab, perhaps cloned from stored cells and then shelved when his design had failed? Would he even know who he was if he woke up? Was he ripped from his home and imprisoned there? What gave Zenith the right to act like gods? It was no wonder the Cetra were pissed, she thought, with everything humans had done to the planet and to each other.

They landed the skiff mid-afternoon, in the shadow of a mountain. The sun was still high in the sky, but they had ventured beyond its reach. The fuel for the skiff was spent, and they were forced to walk from there. They had only the duffel bag that the tent came in, so they left the tent behind and filled the bag with supplies, including what was left of the food, and a tarp and some rope to build a shelter. Iris stretched her arms and legs, and watched Ten take a water filter to a nearby stream. He filled it and began to pump fresh water into all of their canteens.

"Hey Ten," Iris said delicately, crouching by him as he worked. "Why…why are you coming with us, anyway? You've got a wife and kids. This is just gonna get more dangerous."

Ten fumbled with the filter hose and looked up, saying, "Kinda question is that? I told ya, your old man asked me to look after you. I ain't gonna break my promise."

She started, "But your family…"

He screwed on the cap to another canteen and started filling the next. He said testily, "Look. It's what my ancestors would've wanted. Now I risked a lot bustin' you out, and Gene and the kids're safe in Corel, so leave it at that."

"Right." Iris decided to give him some space, before they both lost their tempers. She walked downstream a pace, hands in her pockets, and kicked a pebble into the water, watching the ripples dissolve in the current. Even in the mountain shade, the temperature on the skiff's gauge said it was 80 degrees. She had stripped off her armor and left the guard's baggy fatigues on over the black body suit from Zenith (Ten had looked over it for tracking devices, just in case). She also kept the guard's gauntlets on, preferring to fight with arm support than with none at all.

Her thoughts drifted back to that strange dream, the one where her mother had warned her about the man in black. Now she had calmed down and had a day to recover, she could remember the rest. There had been a castle, and before the castle, an island covered with wild jungle. That meant somewhere tropical, and tropical meant south. But where, exactly? She kicked another pebble in frustration, launching clods of silt in the air. She needed something more specific than south! They should have followed the president's ship, but there was no way they could have done so, not with a raging hurricane on top of everything. It seemed that for every step she took trying to find her mother, she always had to take two steps back.

_No more delays,_ she vowed silently. She heard footsteps and turned to see Amon approaching with the duffel swung over his mechanical shoulder, the shade from the mountain turning the cobalt metal of his arm onyx. His black hair was getting long, was practically shoulder-length as the wind tossed it in the air.

He smiled wanly. "Ten and I played rock paper scissors to see who'd carry the bag first. Guess who lost?"

"Lucky you," she said. "Why didn't Kai volunteer? She seems strong enough."

"Yeah, well," Amon said, rubbing the back of his neck, "we figured she deserves a break after navigating us all the way out here. We owe her our lives, like Ten said."

"Yeah. Give me the bag."

"Huh?"

"I've got to set an example around here," she explained. "Everyone pulls their weight. No one's privileged. I haven't done a single useful thing since we escaped. Now hand me the bag."

"Do you really think that's a good idea? You know, after just getting out of that cell?"

Iris put her hands on her hips and gave him an impatient look. Knowing her too well, he relented and handed the heavy bag over to her and she slung it across her shoulder. They gathered by the skiff and gave it a final onceover, checking all of the compartments for any supplies they may have missed. Iris caught glimpses of beady black eyes watching them from the shadows of the forest. Every now and then, she heard a high-pitched cry that could have been a giggling child, only it was clearly inhuman.

"What are those?" she mumbled, jabbing a thumb at the bushes.

"Goblins," Kai answered. "They'll strip the ship down to the last bolt when we leave. They're scrap scavengers."

At those words, one of the creatures darted out of a bush, running for the cover of a large fern. It had brown skin, long, pointy ears, and wore a pair of red boxing gloves.

"Got a nasty punch to 'em," Kai added. "Don't want a whole bunch gangin' up on you."

"Man, them things come up to my knee. Just give 'em a good kick," Ten said, making a kicking motion with his boot.

The giggling noises intensified, and the bushes rustled loudly. It sounded as though they were surrounded by dozens of the creatures. Ten retracted his statement, muttering, "Er, we should prolly head out now."

They started on the trail that winded through the forest, and which ascended on a steep incline into the mountains. Ten huffed and puffed along, taking generous sips from his canteen. He had stripped off his trench coat and tied it around his waist, his broad back swathed in swirling, zigzagging tribal tattoos, his thick dreadlocks covering most of them. Kai was chatting with him about the particulars of her ship, and telling him stories about Key Cerulea, a trade town south of Junon that also served as a pirate haven.

"Always wanted…to visit Cerulea…" Ten huffed.

"Really?" Kai said, surprised.

"Why's that…a surprise?"

"I got the impression that you didn't like pirates, that's all."

"I'm a…man of trade. Would like to…see what bargains…I could get."

Kai grinned and winked. "To be sure. Well, if bargaining is your forte, Key Cerulea is your town." She peered closely at him. "You know, I have a feeling about you."

Ten craned his head at her, dreadlocks swaying. He glanced at Iris and Amon, making certain they were out of hearing range, before saying, "What?"

"Those tattoos," she emphasized. "I know you said you run a delivery service, but what did you do before that?"

"Don't know…what you're talkin' bout. And if I did…s'none…yo business."

"That's all right, you don't have to say anything." She leaned closer, until she was practically whispering in his ear. "I know what you are. Where you come from. And I know what company you keep. Just keep that in mind."

Ten shot her a threatening glare, then looked ahead at the backs of Amon and Iris, who were arguing loudly and attempting to smack each other with branches.

"You best drop it," he warned. "Right now. If you hadn't saved our lives, I'd have killed you for saying things like that."

Kai merely nodded and sauntered up to Iris and Amon, catching the tail end of their argument.

"-storming a castle with only four people, it's impossible. You have to sneak in somehow," Amon was saying.

"We got lucky once, I don't think that'll happen again," Iris said. "Not like we can go in disguised as repairmen to a temple full of insane cultists. 'Yeah hi, we're here to repair your sacrificial altar. Do you think you could clean up those entrails for us?'"

"Why can't you just trust me on this?" Amon sighed heavily.

"Ah, hullo," Kai said, raising a hand. "Couldn't help but overhear. What's all this about a castle?"

She had stripped off the top portion of her jumpsuit, letting the sleeves hang by her waist, and approached them in a black halter that showed off her suntanned shoulders and toned arms. Her skin was beaded with sweat. Amon suddenly found himself unable to look away, until he pretended to be interested in the trail ahead. Iris shifted the duffel bag on her shoulder. Kai held out her arm to take it from her, and Iris regarded her for a moment before handing it over. She nodded to her gratefully and said, "We were talking about a dream I had."

"Sounds like an important dream to me."

"Yeah, well, I dreamed that I was at the fortress of the Black Wings." Iris could tell by Kai's expression that she knew who the Black Wings were, so she continued, "And my mother was there. Along with a man in black robes, with red eyes. She told me I had to find him before it was too late. He lives in a castle to the south."

"That sounds like Malkuth."

The breath caught in Iris's throat. "What?"

"Malkuth," Kai repeated. "It's a fortress on the Mideel continent. It's a black temple lit by red fires that you can see on a clear night if you're sailing nearby. They say the island's cursed. My ocean kin and I stay away from it, that's for sure."

Iris exchanged looks with Amon, who had suddenly become flushed. She said earnestly, "I need you to take us there."

"That would be stupid. And my kin have a synonym for that word in situations like this—suicide."

But Iris was dead serious, and Kai could read of the girl's stormy silence that she would find a way to the island, one way or another.

"Tell you what," Kai said, wiping perspiration from her forehead. "Once we find my ship, I'll take us to Key Cerulea. You can stock up there on things you'll need, maybe find a few hired hands who'd be willing to go with you, though I don't think you'll find people rushing to your aid."

"I don't care what people think," Iris said. "All that matters is finding my mother."

"Of course. And once we get to my ship, I'll give you each some materia. You're going to need if you're gonna take on the Black Wings."

"You'd do that?" Amon asked her. Iris could hear the childlike glee in his question. They had both always wanted to use materia since they were kids, but never actually had a hope of even seeing materia, except perhaps under a display case in a museum somewhere.

"Yeah, we'll call it even then. You sprung me outta jail, I give you magic," Kai said, smiling her catlike smile and tapping her knuckles against his metal arm. He grinned back at her, his black hair clinging to his forehead and the sides of his face.

"Amon, you're forgetting something," Iris reminded him.

"Huh?"

"We don't know how to use materia."

"Don't sweat it, eh?" Kai said. "I'll give you both the crash course."

"I'd like that," Amon said excitedly. "Show us everything you know."

She laughed in response and went scouting ahead, her brown hair swaying to and fro. They climbed for another four miles or so, until the mountainside revealed the entrance to a cave. Iris felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise as they approached the mouth of the tunnel.

"We're going in here?" she asked, licking her suddenly dry lips and taking a sip from her canteen.

"This cave leads straight to the cavern where my ship's docked," Kai answered. She took a few steps into the tunnel. "Not long now."

Iris and Ten glanced at each other, but Ten nodded and followed the pirate woman into the cave. The tunnel sloped downward, and every so often holes in the ceiling let in fresh sunlight, illuminating rock walls which shimmered with splotches of colorful minerals—silver, gray, olive, and aquamarine. As they walked, Iris heard a faint humming sound, but no one else seemed to notice anything, so she said nothing. The deeper they delved into the mountain, the louder the humming became in her ears, until she thought she could pick up traces of words.

_Mother?_

The tunnel opened into a small cave, which, Iris realized, was the source of the humming. There, an s-shaped pool of water glowed with a teal light, surrounded by hundreds of crystals of every color in the spectrum.

"Beautiful," Iris murmured.

"It's a Mako spring," Kai explained. "Where materia is formed naturally. I don't see any here though…"

Amon examined the crystals, some of them as large as he was, running his human hand along their reflective, flat sides and gently touching the pointed tips. Iris leaned over the Mako pool, looking closer, trying to listen. Ten put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Ey now. That stuff's dangerous."

"I'm okay," Iris said distantly, staring at her own face in the bright water. She leaned closer and closer, gazing down into the depths of the pool. There, she thought she saw something small and green wink at her. "Hey, I see something!"

"Don't!" Ten cried, but Iris reached into the Mako—the water was cool and sent strange vibrations through her skin—and her fingers seized something cold and the size of a tangerine. She lifted a mint-green orb out of the water. Kai inhaled with rapt wonder.

"That's a Cure materia!" she breathed. "Brilliant find!"

Soothing waves emanated from the materia stone. Iris turned to show it to them.

"My gods," Amon said, holding it in his hand and rolling it back and forth. "I never thought I'd actually get to hold materia…"

"Never say never," Iris said gleefully. She let Ten hold it, then Kai, and deposited the materia in her pocket. "That's strange," she murmured, looking up. "The humming stopped."

Amon blinked. "The what?"

She offered them a small, reassuring smile. "Nothing. Let's be on our way."

They crossed the materia cavern and walked into the other half of the tunnel. About a half hour later, they heard the unmistakable crash of ocean waves, and the cave transformed into a great cavern. Docked on their side of the tunnel was a ship unlike any Iris had ever seen. She saw white sails of different sizes and shapes, which gave the appearance of fins on a diamond-shaped fish. The surface of the ship was bright orange, with a darker brown camouflage pattern, covering a swift, angular body.

"Isn't she wonderful?" Kai asked, running down the rocky slope to where the ship was docked.

"Don't know about that paint job! Kind of sticks out," Amon called after her.

"Don't let appearances fool you!" Kai said over her shoulder. The rest of them trotted down the slop, the smell of sea salt soaking into their clothes.

"Hey," Ten said worriedly. "Shouldn't we have heard from her so-called crew by now?"

Almost on que, Kai's body stiffened and she leapt onto the ship's deck, unscrewed the wheel atop of the convex hatch, threw the lid open, and dropped out of sight below deck. As they arrived by the ship, they heard a scream of rage. By instinct, they all jumped onto the ship and leaned over the hatch, prepared for the worst.

But only Kai climbed up the ladder back towards the deck, yelling in an accent they'd never heard before. With her eye reduced to slits, she appeared positively ferocious as she yelled, "Those mutinous bilge-rats! I'll slay them all!" She hoisted herself onto the deck and lifted the lids to metal supply barrels, checking each one. She opened another, slammed the lid, and cried dolefully, "Empty! All empty! Typhoon take them…"

"They abandoned ship?"Ten asked, and only Iris and Amon detected his mock-surprise.

"Stripped her of supplies before they did it," Kai said, leaning against one of the barrels and tapping her fingernails. She was breathing heavily, but appeared to have gotten most of her ange rout. "Including all of my bloody materia!" Her fist struck the metal barrel with a gong. Ten growled, and Iris tossed the duffel bag to the ground and sat on it. Amon's eyes were scanning everything about the ship, taking it all in.

"Any idea where they could've gone?" Iris suggested.

The pirate brightened a bit at that and walked over to them, pacing. "I know of only one place. But we'd have to sail to get there. They would have surely sold the materia at Key Cerulea. Our only hope of getting it back is to go there."

"Then what?" Iris asked. "We can't search the entire port! That'd take weeks, and that's time I DON'T have."

Kai stopped pacing. "I _will_ get my materia back, and I _will_ get to the bottom of this. They wouldn't have abandoned ship for no reason…I know it…"

"You can't honestly expect us to wait for you?" Iris asked, feeling her temper rising.

"Let's cut a deal," Kai proposed. "You help me get my materia back, and I'll sail you all the bloody way to Malkuth, right up to their doorstep."

Iris, about to retort, felt Amon nudge her and stopped. She dug her nails into the roots of her spiky hair and said, "Deal. But you have three days. Then we're gone."

Kai nodded. "Fair enough."

"Can we sail this thing?" Amon inquired, staring at the complex network of sails and rigging with intrigue.

"I can teach you," Kai said, rubbing her temples. "But it'll have to be the crash course, yeah?"

"Just tell me what you need me to do. I've had experience on ships," Ten said, and Iris and Amon turned to him. This was news to them.

"Good, we might actually have her set sail soon, then," said Kai. She immediately put them to work, adjusting the sails and checking the sides of the ship. Iris, Amon, and Ten followed her commands, and after a few hours of instructions, the ship glided out of the cavern and set sail on the vast blue ocean. Come sunset, Iris stood on the deck, grasping one of the masts and watching the ship's stern cut through the water gracefully. It was more like a mix between a submarine and ship, with most of the body underwater. She felt, finally, like they were moving in the right direction. Once they got their hands on some materia, they could sail to Mideel, and confront Bylet'h at Malkuth. She only prayed her mother was still alive...

She looked down suddenly and found a dizzying sight. The ship's deck, though still rock solid beneath her feet, had gone completely invisible, feeding her brain the illusion that she was standing still and floating across the water. The sails, she saw, had also disappeared. Before she could panic, the hatch opened, and half of Amon's body greeted her. She felt slightly dizzy as he gaped at her, then they both laughed in astonishment.

"Now I know why," Amon said, clutching his sore belly. He climbed onto the deck and joined Iris's side.

"Why what?"

Amon smiled, rubbing the back of his head. He squatted and jumped, watching the waves cruise beneath his boots. Still smiling, he said, "Now I know why she calls the ship The Chameleon."

* * *

><p>(AN: A calmer, travel chapter before the action heats up again! And, not much longer, I daresay we'll be seeing some old faces come out of the woodwork. Thank you all for your reviews...and please, keep reading! )


	15. The Party Grows by One

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 15: The Party Grows by One

About an hour before the approach of dawn, Iris emerged onto the deck once more to see hundreds of twinkling lights on the black horizon, seemingly afloat in a void of darkness. Instantly she knew they were arriving at Key Cerulea, for she could discern, in the glow of those fiery-colored lights, the geometric shapes of hundreds of sails. She thought of something and glanced down. The ship's invisibility had gone, glistening in its stead, the orange paint with the brown camouflage pattern. She wondered what the people of Cerulea would think if they arrived hovering above the water like phantoms. She guessed Kai didn't like to use that feature unless it was absolutely necessary.

A breeze sifted through the sails, tossing her thick hair. She leaned into it. Something in the air smelled different, wild. A humid thickness coated everything, perhaps the first sign that they had crossed the equator into the tropics. As they sailed down one of the town's canals, passing dozens of huts, longhouses, and bridged walkways stretching from structure to structure, the salty sea aroma was mingled with foreign odors—spices, charred meat, beer, firewood, sweat, incense, and the spongy smell of dampened rope. Fused with the wooden structures, scrap metal and pieces of old military equipment were equally present in the mix-and-match architecture. This, along with the electric lanterns strung above the walkways and streets, the holographic signs advertising bars, shops, inns, and places of unscrupulous business, made Key Cerulea the perfect meeting point of East and West, a mix of past and present.

The Chameleon slowed and docked next to a long wooden platform, where a set of stairs led up to the walkways above. They disembarked and Kai took the lead. The boardwalk was as wide as any normal street, but cluttered with rickshaws and kiosks displaying a variety of bizarre items and knickknacks, from shrunken heads and blood-stained antique daggers rumored to have slain princes to enormous, spiny yellow melons and strings of dried peppers that could set one's tongue ablaze with a single seed. One seller in particular had them stop in their tracks, along with a small group of curious onlookers. A tan, bald man with a black goatee had dozens of bright round orbs for sale, and the sign above his stand said "Genuine Materia."

Iris and Amon stared longingly at the magical baubles, but Kai stepped in front of them and uttered, so the no one else could hear, "Those are fakes. There are a dozen other stands just like this one selling rip-off materia."

A businessman handed over a sack of gil to the seller, who shook hands with him and gave him one of the orbs. The businessman pulled his back his jacket, pretending to deposit the materia in his pocket, when really he was showing everyone the gun on his belt. The crowd cleared a space to let him through.

Iris shook her head in disproval. "All right. So who sells and buys the real stuff?"

Kai said darkly as they walked away, "No one gets their hands on real materia in this town without shedding some blood first."

"I figured," Amon said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Where are you leadin' us, anyway?" Ten asked. Perhaps out of all of them, he fit in the most with the crowd, where tattoos, piercings, and wonky hairstyles were seemingly epidemic. A man with a green Mohawk and about ten silver rings in each ear, his entire arms covered in ink, walked by, smiling oddly to himself.

"Need to make a pit stop at a friend's," Kai answered. "Gonna see if he can point us in the right direction."

She led them up a small flight of stairs, up to a house composed entirely of sheets of metal, with a large black chimney. She knocked on metal door, which had at one point been welded to the rest of the house. The only distinguishing features were the knocker, which was shaped like a condor with a loop in its mouth, and a placard hanging above the door which bore the image of a smoking glass beaker.

"Who's there?" a male voice warbled.

"It's me, Kaimana," she said. They heard locks unhinging and turning. The door opened a crack, where a large brown eye surveyed them.

"So it is," the eye grunted, flicking upward. "But who are this lot you've brought with you?"

"It's okay, you can trust them. They're friends of mine."

The door opened, and there stood a short, old man who looked like he was a few chromosomes separated from a Tonberry. He had crazy white hair encircling a dark, bald crown, and he ogled them ferociously with his large, owlish eyes, which were magnified to ten times their size through thick bottle glasses. Adding to the Tonberry appearance, he was draped in a monk's brown robe with a yellow drawstring about his middle, and his fat, dirty toes poked beneath the hem of his robe in a pair of sandals that looked like they had seen better days.

"Well, don't stand there like a bunch of dolts. Come in!" he beckoned, and they stepped inside one by one. Their noses were immediately assaulted by a wide range of smells, most of them wafting from open potion bottles and several old-fashioned iron kettles boiling something acrid over a blazing fire. Above the fireplace, an old katana, of a kind Iris's father might have collected, was mounted on a golden plaque. She thought it strange of a potion-maker to have such a thing in his store.

"Chiron, don't be rude," Kai chided. "What about introductions?"

Chiron snorted with his back to them, waddling behind a long wooden counter in front of shelves stocked full with potions. He pulled back his sleeves and rested his elbows on the counter.

"The name's Chiron, to be redundant," he said brusquely. Iris noticed Amon biting his lip and struggling not to laugh—the old geezer's chin barely made it over the countertop. He peered closely at Iris, who felt as though she was being x-rayed. "And who are you?"

"My name's Iris," she said. "Iris Strife."

"Hmmm, interesting," Chiron mused, adjusting his glasses. "And what brings you all the way from Solstice down here, child?"

Her cheeks reddened at being called 'child', but she said steadily, "I'm looking for someone important to me. How did you know I'm from Solstice?"

"All Strifes come from Solstice," he said matter-of-factly. "I met your father, Gale, on his travels when he was a young man, in fact. He would drain my stores of elixirs and phoenix downs, always going on about his training and how he was going to get stronger, but—gaaah, look at me, rattling off again."

Iris would have liked to hear more about her father, as he hadn't told her many stories about the times he traveled when he was her age, but Kai placed her hands on the counter with an urgent look on her face.

"Chiron, we need your help," Kai said. "My ship's been robbed and my crew's gone missing."

"Yes, well, that's what you get when you keep pirates for company, pirate," Chiron chastised, flicking a speck off the counter. "And what services would you require of me?"

Kai seemed taken aback. "You mean you haven't seen anything? Heard anything?"

He scoffed. "They wouldn't come here, to an honest salesman. I'm too old to be messing with thieves and criminals. But if you really want to find out, go to the wreck of the Dominator."

"The hell is a 'Dominator?'" Ten asked.

"An old Shinra aircraft carrier that crashed battling Weapon, many years ago," Chiron replied. "To the southeast of here. I hear it's a big gathering place for all the young fools looking to test their merit. There's a man in charge there, who deals with the buying and selling of rare items. Look there, if you're crazy enough."

"Thanks," Kai said, bowing. "You always pull through for me, old master."

"This guy was your master?" Amon asked.

Chiron smiled. "What's wrong, robot boy? Don't think I have any fight in me?"

"You're full of something, but I don't think it's fight," Amon muttered. Iris shoved him and said, as respectfully as she could,

"Look, you wouldn't happen to have any armor or anything, would you? We need it. And weapons."

The old man shook his grizzled head. "'Fraid I sold all that stuff long ago. All I've got here's potions." He straightened up suddenly and stomped three times on the floor.

"Coming!"

A trapdoor opened from behind the counter, and out popped a head full of brown hair, which stood up in every direction, followed by a pair of bright, squirrely eyes. A boy no older than fourteen, thin, with long legs and clunky boots, emerged from the trapdoor, dusting off his apron and grumbling. He looked as though he had been working hard at something, as he was covered head to toe in dirt and had cobwebs in his hair.

"Shou, this is my former student, Kai," Chiron said to the boy, gesturing to Kai. "And these are her lackeys."

"We prefer the term 'associates'," Ten interjected.

"_As_ I was saying," Chiron drawled, "they could use some new equipment. Take 'em to Odin's Forge and see what you can get 'em with this." He handed the boy a paper.

"What is it?" the boy, Shou, asked.

"A reminder that the owner owes me a favor for curing his son of a rather nasty venereal disease," Chiron said, clearing his throat. "And that is all the detail I care to go into. And Shou…"

"Yes sir?"

"Keep an eye on them for me."

Shou's face brightened, probably excited at the prospect of getting out of that grubby, smelly shop, but Ten stepped forward, cutting the air with his hand. "He's just a boy. You can't expect us to take him…"

"Oh, but I think you'll find Shou very useful," Chiron said, chuckling. "Shou, demonstrate."

"Now? But I'm tired!"

"Boy, what'd I say?"

Shou scuffed his boot against the floor and placed his hands together at his chest. He closed his eyes, concentrating, and from the crown of his forehead, he generated a wave of golden light that washed over the group and left them feeling more energized and awake.

"He's a healer?" Iris asked.

"The best there is," Chiron said proudly. Shou flushed. "Go get your things. Just the essentials."

Shou nodded and took off up the stairs behind them. When he was out of earshot, Chiron added,

"I took him under my wing a few years ago when I found him wandering the streets. Apparently his father had died and his uncle had taken over the man's position, but he didn't want a son getting in the way. He sent the boy packing at ten years old. Ten years! Can you imagine."

"And you're gonna put him on the road again, with us?" Amon asked.

"He can't stay in this town," Chiron hissed. "It ain't safe anywhere, not even here. Won't you take him with you? Please? As a favor to me, for helping you out."

"Fine. As long as he doesn't slow us down," Iris answered, folding her arms. Kai remained silent, but Amon and Ten both argued with Iris at once, until she said loudly, "I don't like it either! But we owe this man. And we could use a healer."

"I won't be responsible for a kid!" Ten said, pounding his fist on the counter.

"Excuse me," came a timid voice from behind them. Shou, a backpack slung over his shoulder, trotted down the rest of the stairs. "I want you guys to know, I can take care of myself. I'm really good at hiding, and I'm a fast runner. And I can make potions for you! No more stopping at stores. Please …"

"Our mission just ain't one for a kid," Ten said flatly. "Sorry."

"Then you should know," Chiron spoke up, "that the boy's uncle has ordered his execution. He's sent hit men after him before, and he's escaped them twice now. It's only a matter of time before they show up here. Don't make me beg…"

Kai turned to Shou and asked, "Just who are you, boy?"

"My uncle," Shou told them, gazing at the floor, "is President Mercer."

"Aw, hell," Ten said, walking away before he lost his temper completely.

Iris turned to Chiron. "Who's to say Mercer's hit men won't come after us?"

"I certainly won't tell them where he is." Chiron nodded. "I'd stake my life on it. And then there's this."

He tossed a potion to Shou, its laser-green contents bubbling. "Drink that."

"What is it?" Shou held the potion at eye-level. "I don't recognize this consistency or hue." He uncorked the potion and sniffed. "Is that bananas I smell?"

"Just drink it. It'll disguise you." Chiron said lazily, waving a hand for the go-ahead. Shou downed the potion in one gulp, and winced as the chemical took effect. His hair grew longer, straighter, until it came down his neck, and from there it turned darker, to jet-black. His eyes lengthened, became almond-shaped and dark brown. Finally, two round, fluffy ears poked out of the sides of his head where his human ears had been, and he jumped as a brown, hairy tail shot out the back of his trousers.

"Chiron! What'd you do?" Shou cried, aghast. He ran over to a mirror and felt his new monkey ears, his tail undulating.

"That last part I hadn't counted on," Chiron said with a touch of guilt. "Ah well, no one's going to think monkey-boy is the president's nephew. And tails can come in very handy."

"I'm a freak!" Shou groaned, yanking at his ears. But the potion had drastically changed his looks, even his voice was different, scratchier.

Ten asked, "How long til it wears off?"

Chiron handed him a bottle. "This reverses the effects. They'll be permanent until he drinks this, so keep it somewhere safe."

"Great," Shou muttered, his tail flicking in agitation. "Fantastic. Thank you, sir."

They had no choice at that point, and despite Ten and Amon's reservations, the boy tagged along. Chiron bid them farewell, and gave them a sack of phoenix downs, mega-elixirs, and antidotes to show his gratitude. He also gave them each an ether, and told them to hold onto it once they learned how to use materia. Despite his sudden onset of charity, no one felt like the deal had been a fair one, but Iris was too preoccupied with her mission, and Kai with finding her crew.

"Nice master you got there," Ten muttered to Kai as they tromped across a bridge toward Odin's Forge. "Dumping a kid on us like that."

"I know Chiron," Kai defended. "He wouldn't have done that if he hadn't genuinely thought the boy would help us."

Ten grunted his disdain and said nothing more. They arrived at Odin's Forge, a large weapon and armor depot, where Shou quickly found the owner and handed him the slip of paper. The owner looked up at the group of warriors in front of him, and gritted his teeth and smiled as he let them choose from a selection of armor and weapons (off the discount rack, but they were poor and weren't complaining). As Iris got behind the changing curtain to ditch the Zenith bodysuit, however, the shop owner recognized the design and snatched it up, offering her a price of 5,000 gil for it. She gladly sold the thing, and opted for a pair of skin-tight black pants, a pair of sturdy black boots with silver toes, a cropped leather jacket with built-in elbow pads (which had the symbol '狼' for 'wolf' in red slashes on the back), and a red tube-top beneath the jacket. She was also able to secure a pair of fingerless gloves with metal bangles around the wrists. As a last thought, she grabbed a belt with deep pockets and buckled it to her waist, stashing her new items inside. The Cure materia she tucked into the breast pocket of her jacket and snapped it shut.

Amon and Ten had their original clothes, but Ten took some new daggers for himself, and Amon picked up a couple of grenades. Kai strapped a brand new scimitar to her waist and tossed her prisoner's clothes for a pair of gray, striped trousers, which tucked into a pair of knee-high brown boots. She tied an emerald sash around her waist and threw on a red halter vest with gilded embroidery. Beneath this she had wrapped a simple black cloth in an x-shape around her chest, which tied at the neck, and she wrapped her arms up to the elbow in bandages, for support, and plucked a pair of black gloves from a bin by the register.

"All right, and for the young'un?" the owner asked, pointing to Shou. The boy had fallen into a stormy silence since his partial transformation, but he was relieved to trade in his grubby clothes for a pair of white cotton pants, a simple black vest and some flat black shoes. Ten cut a hole into the boy's pants for his tail. His mood slightly lifted, Shou admired himself in the store mirror, flicking his tail and flexing his ears, and Iris practically had to drag him away when they were ready to go.

Once they were outside the shop, Amon asked, "Where to next? Should we go and find this Dominatrix?"

"Dominator!" Shou corrected.

"Whatever, kid."

"After we check the taverns," Kai told them. "I want to see if any of my thirsty friends have come to the watering hole."

They went into several bars and taverns before Kai finally spotted someone she recognized. The individual was a woman, dark-skinned and dark-haired, with a scar beneath her left eye. Empty shot glasses circled her table, and she was too preoccupied with the TV to notice Kai, until she sat down next to her. The woman started and looked for an exit, but Iris and the others had surrounded her.

"Is there gonna be trouble?" the bartender growled, and he placed a shotgun on the countertop he was polishing. "Cuz I just cleaned up in here."

"Nah trabel," the woman said in a thick accent, looking at Kai with glassy eyes. "Right?"

"That all depends," Kai said stonily, pulling up a chair. She took the shot from the woman's hand and downed it.

"Ya owe me t'irty gil for dat," the woman said, smiling wanly. Kai placed the glass on the table upside down, tapped it several times, and said,

"What happened, Nadi? I left you in charge."

"De was a desertion," Nadi said. "Wadn't nothin' ah could do."

"Who was it?"

"Jenner, and Beeg Tim. Dey snatched up da materia and da weapons, all da loot, too, and took off with eet by land. We caught der trail and followed dem fa miles, but da trail went cold at Junon. So we hopped a ship here, tinkin' dis would be the place they'd try an' sell every'ting, and we was righ'." Nadi laughed bitterly and signaled for another shot. Kai forced her hand down, gripping it tightly. "Dem two traitors are long gone from here."

"Nevermind Jenner and Big Tim. Where's my materia, Nadi?"

"Kai," Nadi rasped. "Forget eet. Dose lowlifes sold ja materia to Pontius Rex. Ee's runnin' the games at dat big sheep-wreck, da Dominator."

Kai's scimitar blade whipped out and was within inches of Nadi's throat. The bartender swore and went for his shotgun, but Amon had snatched it out of his reach.

When the bartender protested, Amon growled, "I hate guns." He emptied it of bullets, tossing them away, and gave it back to him, making sure he didn't reload.

Kai held the blade against the woman's throat. "I won't ask again!"

"Ya can win eet back!" Nadi said hastily, leaning away from the blade, her bloodshot eyes bulging. She licked her lips and said, "Da materia is da grand prize for dis week's tournament. Ya can win it back if ya fight in da games! Da next one is tonight, at midnight!"

Kai withdrew her scimitar and stood up. "How do we enter?"

"Ya show up and put ja names in. But eets no easy feat, Captain. Be careful. I tried my luck and got dis." She rolled up her pant leg, revealing a long, bloody gash that hadn't been properly bandaged.

She asked, in a low voice, "Where is the rest of the crew?"

"Dead," Nadi whispered, so only Kai could hear. "Dey died tryin' ta win yer precious materia back."

She stiffened and folded her arms, gazing out the window, at a pair of drunken sailors holding onto each other's shoulders and belting out sea shanties. Her crew would never sing again. Shou, who had been standing towards the back, came forward and stared at Nadi's wound with concern. He rummaged in his backpack and handed her a small container.

"This is a salve. Here, take it," he told her. "It'll clear up that wound. Apply it for three days, twice a day, or it'll get infected."

"Tank you, child," Nadi said gratefully.

"Waste of supplies," Ten growled.

"I can make more. This stuff's easy," Shou said. Iris felt a swirl of familiarity from the boy's charity, remembering her mother's handiwork back home. She was always handing out poultices and salves for the wounded farmers, and was quick to offer medical advice.

"You okay?" Amon asked her quietly as they left the bar.

"I'm fine," Iris said. She looked ahead at Kai, who was walking with her head down and not talking to anyone. "I dunno about her, though."

They reconvened in an alleyway, and Kai folded her arms and leaned against the wall. "So, who's in favor of fighting in this tournament?" she asked. Iris thought her eyes looked a tad puffy.

She replied, "Why don't we just find this Pontius Rex and take it from him ourselves?"

"Man like that will have insane security," Ten said. "We'd be stupid to even try."

"Yeah, well, I'm not a fan of fighting for pleasure myself," Amon said, and Iris watched the fingers on his cybernetic arm twitch. "And what happens if we end up fighting each other?"

"Then obviously one of us will lose," Ten said, sounding less than thrilled at the notion.

"Look," Kai huffed, her green eyes shining. "This is the only way we're going to get my materia back. We may end up fighting each other, but having more than one person enter increases our chances of winning! Either we compete, and one of us wins, or we go our separate ways, and that's that."

Iris sighed, and cracked her knuckles. "All in favor of the tournament?"

They all raised their hands, including Shou. Amon gave him a look and said, "You're not competing, kid."

Shou put his hand down. At that exact moment, his stomach growled loudly, and Iris and Amon laughed.

"I guess we had better eat something before we go," Amon said.

"Yeah," Iris agreed. She turned to Kai, attempting to put some wind back in the disheartened captain's sails. "Know of any good places?"

"I'm not hungry," Kai murmured. "But if you all want to eat, go to the Oasis three blocks down. I'll be waiting in the bar with Nadi."

Iris nodded and thanked her. They stopped in at Oasis to grab a bite to eat before sundown. Iris didn't care for the hookah and the belly dancers, but Amon and Ten seemed to enjoy themselves. Shou hid his face in his napkin when one of the dancers swayed to their table, dipping and rotating her hips.

Once it was good and dark, they met Kai again and headed for the southeastern portion of the island, leaving town behind and taking to a trail that cut through the jungle, which was lit by torches. The trail ended and they trekked down the beach for about a mile, until they came upon a massive shipwreck. A half of an aircraft carrier jutted into the air, its lower portion embedded in the sand. The command tower on the far end was still lit and operational, and it was towards this beacon that dozens of people were climbing.

As they set foot on the deck, they received some threatening stares and comments from passing warriors and thugs. Iris and the others did their best to stare straight ahead. Amon had to walk around a man who had stopped deliberately in his tracks, grinning fiendishly. His gaze followed Amon as they walked, and Shou tailed Ten's heels closely. Iris went to take Amon's arm, but she looked over and saw Kai had already done so. They reached the top of the deck, where two thin, wicked-looking bouncers with double swords watched them pass, eyeing Shou suspiciously but not moving. If a kid wanted to get himself killed, it wasn't any of their concern.

Once inside, they followed everyone through a hallway, passing rooms with tinted windows. The hall slanted downward into the bowels of the ship. They walked through an abandoned mess hall, over to a stairwell, but instead of stairs there was darkness, and a ladder, which plunged into the black. They climbed down one-by-one, and gradually the darkness lifted and gave way to blinding LED lights, which had been placed around a large stadium at the bottom of the ship. The bleachers of the stadium were built into the sides of the ship's rounded hull. The Dominator, Iris realized, had been hollowed out on the inside, but not by man—something had reached in and ripped out all of the deck levels, gutting it like a fish, leaving behind only the skeleton.

"Weapon," Iris said as they climbed.

"The monsters that roamed the planet before Meteorfall?" Kai asked from above her.

"I don't think any other creature could have done it." Iris shuddered. "And you know who made the Weapons?"

"Who?" Shou asked, directly beneath her.

"The Cetra," Iris said, and she leapt the last ten feet and landed on the floor. They walked over to a booth, where competitors were writing their names on slips of paper and depositing them in a box. They submitted their names, and got into two lines. Iris and Kai shook hands with Ten and Amon, wishing them luck. They headed for opposite sides of the stadium, the female fighters separating from the males. Iris and Kai sat in the female waiting room, which was, Iris imagined, quite empty compared to the hordes of men she'd seen heading the other way.

She scoped the competition, including a human-Cheetah hybrid with long, curved black claws on the ends of her fingers, an older woman in a Zenith Infantry uniform, and a dozen or so other females of various sizes and ages. None of them looked like they'd be particularly easy to defeat. She found herself analyzing them as things, not people, and frowned.

"Nervous?" Kai asked, sharpening the business end of her scimitar on one of the whetstones that had been placed near the benches. Sparks flew like tiny fireworks.

"No, not at all," Iris said. And the strange thing was—she was right. In fact, she was more excited than nervous. She stretched and took to the punching bag in the corner, her fists blurring as she struck. The more she warmed up, the more she couldn't wait for them to call her name. A half hour went by, and then the tournament finally started. She heard names called, a horn blasted, and she heard blades clash, followed by cheering from the betting stands.

Finally, after about an hour, the announcer called, "Next up—Iris Strife!"

Iris wrapped a piece of tape around her knuckles and headed for the exit.

"Good luck!" Kai called.

"Thanks, same to you."

A flash of light, and then she headed out into the stadium. The floor of the square, stone arena was stained with blood and sweat. She stepped onto it and waited for her opponent to be called, feeling the heat from the LEDs on her skin. Pure adrenaline ran through her veins. Her body felt as light as air.

The announcer boomed, "Jace Castor!"

A man emerged from the other side of the ring. He stood opposite to her, was about an even six feet in height, and didn't appear to have any weapons on hand, though his close-shaven hair and dog-tags indicated that he was from Z.I. He took one look at her and spit out of the side of his mouth.

_You're gonna pay for that,_ Iris thought, raising her fists.

The announcer roared, "Three…two…one…FIGHT!"

* * *

><p>(AN: No Vincent Valentine in this chapter, sadly. But soon. SOON!)


	16. The Tournament

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 16: The Tournament

At her appearance, the gritty spectators in the betting stands sent up jeers and shouts. Shou, hidden by a blue cape and hood draped across his shoulders, was seated amongst the ruffians, and it was due to his presence in the stands that he happened to notice an odd thing. Through the haze of cigarette and cigar smoke, some of the audience members, upon hearing the name Strife, chattered excitedly amongst themselves, or fell completely silent and stared at the stage with expectant looks on their faces. He heard the term "Mako eyes" uttered more than once as well.

Chiron had lectured him on the importance of Mako eyes, but like many of the old man's lessons, this importance behind this one had fallen into a blank section of his mind. What was the damned example again? Well, he knew one thing: that kind of support from the crowd wouldn't do. Shou pumped his fist and yelled, in his squeaky teenager's voice, "All right Iris! Kick some ass!" His hood slipped off, exposing his impossibly round, fluffy ears for a moment. He yanked the garment over them and looked left and right, but no one seemed to care.

Iris regarded her opponent with cool focus. He wasn't an enraged, cybernetic being, a sin made of nature and metal, or a pinpoint-precise machine designed to kill. He was only a man. And, as he threw the first kick at her neck, she noted his sloppy stance. She blocked his kick with the outer edge of her arm, deflecting his foot. The impact traveled up her arm. She shook it off, dancing on her feet. A ball of energy welled inside her, colliding violently against the walls of her veins and nerves, fighting for release.

The man grimaced, stomped his boot, and lunged forward, aiming several punches at her. Iris blocked them all, moving with a speed and ease she'd never known before her time at Zenith. He threw a low hit; she ducked, grabbed his arm, and brought him with her as she hit the floor. Digging her legs into his chest, she extended her legs, the strongest part of her body, with great force and catapulted him out of the ring. The man flew some twenty feet before crashing to the ground. Iris got up and brushed off her leggings, not a drop of sweat breaking out on her forehead. She watched the man struggle to get up, wondering if she had gone overboard, but the guards around the ring shooed her off to make way for the next competitors.

Several people in the audience clapped lazily. They had been expecting a bloodbath, not a simple toss-out. Shou did his fair share of cheering, but he quickly quieted himself as he garnered stares from some surly-looking men. Iris ignored the crowd as she stepped out of the ring and headed back into the women's waiting room. Had Amon and Ten watched the match? There didn't seem to be any screens televising the fights in the waiting room; she could only discern by what she heard on the outside.

"Nice job," Kai complimented as she sat down, thumbing the edge of her scimitar. "That was some decent footwork. We'll have this thing won in no time."

"Thanks," Iris grunted, not bothering to ask how Kai had seen the fight. She wasn't feeling particularly talkative. All she cared about was winning that materia and learning how to use it to cut down some Black Wings and get to her mother. Interfering with her goal, buzzing in her brain like a mosquito, was a certain image—Kai's elbow linked with Amon's. She knew, all too well, that there was no reason for jealousy. She and Amon had never really tried to rear the feeble chick that had been their romance into a thing capable of flight, and they had each had other relationships after. And Kai had only been trying to prevent a fight. But, as she watched the sable, sleek pirate captain take several jabs at an invisible enemy with her scimitar, Iris couldn't quite unravel the knot in the pit of her stomach.

A few matches later, Ten's name soared across the stadium. She and Kai opened the door to the arena and peered out. Someone growled from behind them. Iris turned, to see the woman towering over them. A woman equal-parts cat—a cheetah, from the teardrop markings on her face.

"Zat opponent eez mine," the cheetah-woman hissed, baring her sharpened teeth in a human face, distorted by a feline nose, whiskers, and eyes. Her entire body was covered in short golden fur, and dappled with black rings and spots. True to the nature of her animal side, her legs were long, muscular, and powerful, and her hulking shoulders left no question in Iris's mind that she could easily flip a small truck. Some of Iris's confidence disintegrated.

The she-cat growled, "Are you both deaf? Let me pass."

They let her. She laid a clawed hand on the doorframe and swung it open, stomping by on thick, pawed feet. The match began, with both opponents sizing each other up. Ten used his daggers sparingly, but the spliced woman was too quick. She dodged his blades easily, but didn't seem keen on getting close to him. Instead, she circled him, as a cat skillfully stalks its prey. Before Ten could secure another throw, she waited until his arm reached back before she leapt at him, claws slashing wildly. It looked like she was going to beat him, when Ten dodged and grappled with her tail, attempting to throw her out of the ring. The cheetah-woman snarled and fell to all fours, head-butted Ten in the gut, and delivered a spinning kick that tipped him outside the arena.

"Damn!" Iris's fist banged against the doorframe. She willfully stepped aside as the cheetah-woman returned. Kai watched her out of the corner of her eye but said nothing.

"Next up!" the announcer called. "We have a local, folks. Captain Kaimana, of the infamous Chameleon!"

Iris let her through and said a quick 'good luck'. Kai walked out into the ring, her opponent a man bearing a broadsword and armed in silver chainmail. The audience sent up a clamor, passing gil, gems, coins, and other trinkets around like a bad germ. Kai beat her opponent easily enough, relying on her agility to outmaneuver him, bringing him to his knees with her scimitar against his neck. Before returning to the waiting room, Iris watched her stand still in the arena, scanning the crowd of spectators. She traced Kai's gaze, to a private box at the very top of the arena. A man in a dark suit overlooked them all, gripping the balcony and flanked by guards dressed similarly to the bouncers they had seen earlier.

_Pontius Rex_, Iris thought, regarding his tuxedo and slick black hair, his thin body frame. Kai hopped off the stage and returned to the waiting room.

"Did you see him?" she asked, sliding her scimitar through a loop in her sash. "Up in the stands?"

"Yes," Iris said. "That's the man who runs this whole show, huh? He didn't look so tough."

"His buddies did."

"Yeah, well maybe we should have just dealt with him personally." Iris couldn't mask the frustration in her voice. "I'm beginning to think this was a bad idea. We've already lost Ten."

Before Kai could retort, the speakers crackled yet again, and the announcer said, "Ladies and gentlemen, what a special treat! Pontius Rex has come down from his box to grace us with his presence. Let's show some respect to the man who started it all!"

The spectators fell silent as Pontius Rex emerged from a hallway somewhere beneath the stands, joining the announcer on the dais near the edge of the ring, hands in his pockets, his parted brown hair waving and his step pompous and confident. He grasped a microphone, pointing to the women's waiting room, and said, in a lazy, drawling voice, "Iris Strife, come out. I'd like to have a word with you." He waited. Iris didn't budge. He said again, with more impatience, "Iris Strife, to the arena!"

Iris clenched her fists. "What do you think he wants?"

Kai shook her brown locks. "I don't know, but you'd better get out there. But for Shiva's sake, be careful." Iris threw the door open and stalked out to the ring, taking a stand next to Rex. Lithe and tall, he was the sort of man who struck people as imposing, and could make them do things simply by leaning down and commanding them. She disliked him instantly and scanned his body for weakness. Dark circles dipped beneath his eyes, his cheekbones protruded far too prominently, and his hands stuck out from his sleeves like two pale crabs. Beneath his cocky aura, he appeared sickly. His four bodyguards were lively enough, standing tense and poised, each encased in midnight black armor and equipped with swords, guns, grenades, and stun rods.

"Well well well! It's been a while since we've had a Strife grace our presence," Rex greeted, and he flashed a deviant smile at the crowd. They ate up his patronizing words, but Iris felt her dislike turn into bile. He said, "I've come down here to _personally_ welcome you to my tournament."

"And to what do I owe this pleasure?" Iris asked.

Rex's smile broadened. "It would be rude of me to not welcome the daughter of a former champion."

That was a low blow. Iris could not contain her surprise, nor could she believe her father had never bothered to tell her that once, he had stood where she had stood, an honorable warrior fighting amongst scoundrels and thieves. She swallowed to steady her voice and said, "My father?"

"There can be no other," Rex chided (harsh laughter from the crowd). His voice changed to sarcastic nostalgia. "How could we forget the fiery Gale? Who beat through our ranks and claimed the prize of 100,000 gil? We haven't had a _Strife_," he spat the name out like a bad bite of sushi, "in many, many years. What a treat, eh, folks?"

The crowd hissed and booed. Evidently, they hadn't been fans of her father. Probably because he'd taken what was most likely stolen gil from them. Thieving from thieves, in a sense. It didn't exactly earn any favorable points for her. But they didn't know her side of it, they were just going off of what this idiot was saying.

Overcome with anger, she snatched the mic of his hand without thinking. "Look," she said emphatically, and the sudden silence was cutting. "I'm not here to bust any of you for what it is you do, or for glory or an ego trip, whatever. I just want the materia, like everybody else."

Rex laughed raucously and smiled, his eyes cold and glinting, matching the numerous piercings and bars running through his ears. He held out his hand for the mic, the guards twitched, and Iris held onto it for another second before relinquishing it back to him.

"Well, good luck to you, Iris Strife," he said, his words acidic. "May the best warrior win."

The audience was raving now, cutlasses dancing in the air and bandanas helicoptering. Iris felt sweat trickle down her temples, hoping that Shou was safe. It occurred to her that if Rex gave the order, he could have the entire stadium rush her in an angry wave. Clearly people's dependence on gambling and violent amusement meant more than the life of a 'precious champion's' daughter. He saw this dawn on her face, lowered the mic, and leaned close to her ear, his eyes full of pure menace. "You're finished," he growled.

Iris raised her eyebrows at his threat. As he leaned in, she caught the scent of something unusual, like burning cloth, and in the opening of his shirt collar, she thought she saw something red and puffy, like a freshly pressed brand. The crowd settled down, murmuring their dissent. Rex smiled broadly. He brought the mic back up and said, "That's enough reminiscing. Back to the tournament!"

There went a round of sloppy applause as he left, surrounded by the black circle of his bodyguards. As he entered the private stairwell to his box, he passed a robed figure and muttered, "Niril, make sure she's eliminated, and fast."

The robed figure belonging to Niril clasped its sleeves together and bowed. After Rex had gone, a black hem swept and footfalls padded on quiet feet into a room where a board was hung, displaying the fight lineup. Pale, weathered hands emerged from the voluminous sleeves and quickly rearranged the tags with the names of the fighters. Then, with a twirl of a frayed hem, the figure was gone. A man with a prosthetic leg emerged from the bathroom, mopping his forehead with a rag, and wrote down the names of the next competitors on his index card.

The next of their group to be called was Amon, up against a male (Iris guessed mid-twenties) who appeared confident and brandished a lance with a hook at the base of the spear tip. Amon didn't bring out his specialized arm blade, not even after they bowed to each other and the fight had begun. Kai and Iris watched as the two circled one another, Amon attacking first, narrowly ducking as the man with the lance swung in a wide arc. The audience rooted for the man with the spear, disliking Amon's mechanic arm, yelling about unfair advantages. Iris bit her lip as the blade sailed right above his hair. "Come on," she said under her breath, then, louder, "Come on Amon! Get past it!"

The man took a few quick steps backward, then charged at Amon with the lance held at his side. Amon leapt out of the spearhead's path and ran forward, bringing back his prosthetic arm for the strike. The man with the lance flipped the spear with an expert whirl and jabbed the deadly point at his chin. Amon's arm blade flashed as he brought his arm up to his face, the lance tip clashing against it with a tiny explosion of sparks, only a few inches from his nose.

"Too close!" Kai hissed, one hand gripping her chin nervously. "He was aiming to kill…"

"Cheating bastard." Iris clenched the doorframe tightly. More images flashed into her mind—Amon curled into a ball, a pool of blood, a severed arm. His pale face aimed at the sky, searching for relief from the pain as his eyes rolled into his head. Prayer sessions at the temple, the devout kneeling at a statue of Aeris for her blessing on the wounded disciple. Her fingers tying a pink ribbon above a bandaged stump under the cold stars in the wilderness.

Then, a breakthrough—the man spun his spear again, jumped, and brought it down in a stabbing motion. Amon kicked into the air, the spear rushed over his shoulder, and the tip of his metal elbow caught the man squarely in the throat. He crashed to the floor, choking, as Amon grabbed his spear and tossed it out of the ring.

"Disarmed! And from the looks of it, KO'd!" the announcer shouted as the crowd made an angry ruckus, booing.

"All right!" Shou hooted into his cupped hands. Amon grinned and walked towards the edge of the ring. Just as his boot hovered off the edge, the crowd gasped. The man rolled to his feet and came charging behind him, locking his arms around Amon's waist. He lifted him clear off the ground and brought him head-over-heels, slamming him downward onto the arena tiles. The breath crushed from Amon's lungs as he lay there, stunned, while the announcer counted down from three. When he arrived at one, the victor lit a cigarette, trounced out of the arena, picked up his spear, and was gone. Amon closed his eyes and rolled over, clutching his sides.

"Oh my gods, folks!" the announcer gushed. "That was one of the best comebacks I've seen in a long time. Incredible!"

The crowd cried for blood. Iris spun around and kicked a locker, which dented under the impact. "I don't believe this!"

"Calm down," Kai hushed, running her fingers through her hair.

"But that was clearly Amon's victory! I'm gonna go smack some sense into that announcer." Iris set her jaw and started for the door. Kai put a hand on her shoulder, but Iris twisted out of her reach, storming back over to the door to make sure Amon had gotten up and left. The tournament wasn't even halfway over, and they had already lost two people. Seeing he was no longer hurt, she heaved her back against the wall and folded her arms, a few pointed, stray chunks of hair hanging in her face.

Kai was called out a few matches later. She ran to the ring quickly. From behind, Saen, the cheetah-human hybrid, sprang into the ring with her, flicking her long, golden tail.

Kai's grip on her scimitar was firm, her knees slightly bent, her free arm out and ready. The fight began, and Saen let loose a bestial cry that was partly human and partly wild animal. She towered over the pirate by at least two feet, slashing downward with her talons.

In a swift display of footwork, Kai hopped out of reach, dodging each swipe, both she and the crowd wary that a direct hit from the splicer's claws could result in her staring at her own intestines on the floor. She waited for an opening, counterattacked, and cross-slashed the beast woman's hefty flanks. Saen sprang out of the blade's reach and circled the pirate, bounding on all fours for extra speed, cat eyes flashing. The heels of Kai's boots backed slowly towards the opposite end of the ring, and she put a good fifteen feet of distance between them.

For a long, tense moment, the air grew still as the two opponents faced one another, graceful pirate against agile hybrid.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. Saen rushed at her, her front talons and back paws motoring, long black hair flying, tail streaming straight out like a rudder. One second she had been on the other side of the ring, the next she had launched off of the tiles and pounced down on Kai from the air, all teeth and claws and fur. Kai somersaulted to the side, but Saen's claws found her abdomen, slashing away cloth and a half centimeter of flesh like paper slices through skin. Iris saw no sign of pain on Kai's face. She suffered through the wound and stabbed again at Saen, and again, and again, her attacks ruthless and fast. The cat woman retreated from the blade, until Kai had walked her all the way to the other side of the ring once more.

"You ze famous captain, of ze Chameleon?" Saen growled, between heavy breaths. "I vas here when your crew tried to win Rex's prize."

Kai gripped her scimitar tightly, until her knuckles turned white. "Shut up," she warned.

The cheetah-woman's lips curled back into a toothy, wicked smile. "Zey fought tooth an' nail, but one by one zey fell. Zat was a bloody tournament, you see." She brought her claws up and licked them with a pink tongue. "I 'ad ze pleasure of killing a few myself. Ze stains from zer bodies are still on ze tiles." She spat on the tainted marble floor.

Kai regarded her with stony eyes, smiling wanly. "You'll pay for that, _beast_."

A deep note of resentment vibrated in Saen's chest. She flexed her claws, pacing back and forth. She calculated for another second and waited for Kai to attack diagonally across her chest, before going in for the finisher. The beast woman's fangs bit down, seeking out the tender flesh of a human arm. Kai's body went stiff as a board, her feet planted widely apart. Saen's teeth scraped against metal. The pirate had used her scimitar as a bit.

Saen's jowls clamped down on the metal, blood dripping and mouth frothing, eyes turned to slits. Her ears lowered against her skull in rage. She sought flesh with her claws in a whirlwind of black hooks. Steel flashed, the pirate captain withdrew her sword, and kicked Saen in the chest. Saen didn't move backward, but the blow caused her to flinch, and Kai pointed her blade at the beast woman's thick neck.

"Don't!" Saen cried, but her voice was lost. The audience screamed their encouragement.

"For my crew," Kai said grimly. The blade jolted closer. Saen's face contorted with shock. Blue-white light smoked from the hilt of the scimitar, traveling down, the air misting in front of her. Their breath fogged, forming tiny clouds as the air around them dropped to sub-zero temperatures. A jet of light burst from the tip of the blade, striking Saen squarely in the chest. The frozen projectile spread a layer of thick white ice across the splicer's chest and arms, freezing her upper body solid. The hybrid's body hovered on the edge of the ring, limbs at awkward angles like tree branches frozen sidelong in a blizzard. With the extra weight of the ice, Saen toppled over the side. Her body shattered into a thousand shards.

"THAT WAS…ICE MATERIA!" the announcer shouted. The crowd exploded, people rising in their seats and hurling insults (and bottles). The announcer faltered, "Well, er, that'll put the edge on anyone's offense. But the use of materia has been forbidden since the Great Combustion of Edgar the Flammable. It looks like our judges are disputing…"

Iris's eyes roved towards the announcer's podium. Sure enough, a table of judges disputed heatedly, until, finally, one by one, they each turned their thumb down. Kai sheathed her scimitar, staring at what remained of Saen, withdrawn in contemplation. An empty booze bottle crashed a few feet from her boots, sending up little daggers of glass, and broke her from her thoughts. With a twirl of the forest-green silk sash around her waist, she got off the stage and headed back to the locker room.

After that display, the remaining female warriors gave Kai a generous breadth, but Iris was on her like a wasp and in her face, her own drawn into a grimace of anger and disbelief. "Where the HELL did you get that? Why'd you use it?"

A few fighters glanced at the scimitar with more than innocent curiosity. Kai brought a hand to the hilt of her blade protectively. "I had a spare on the ship."

"And you chose to reveal that _now_?" Iris seethed.

"As a last resort. Besides, none of you would know how to use it," Kai said, then defended, "She killed my crew Iris! They tried to win the materia back for me, and they were slain." The pirate captain shook with anger and grief. She lashed out suddenly and grabbed Iris by the upper arms. Her eyes alight with green fire, her mouth taut, she said, "You must win this. Do you understand? It's all up to you."

"Me?" Iris laughed, as if she had just told a bad joke. "I thought you said having more people in this thing would make a difference!"

"It should have!" Kai shot back, a line appearing between her eyebrows. "It seems the gods do not hold our favor tonight."

"To Hades with their favor!" Iris cried, throwing her hands in the air. "What do we do now?"

"We still have you, at least." Kai searched for something in her eyes. Iris wondered why everyone was so obsessed with the color of them lately. The pirate let go. "So, are you a Strife or not? Are you of the Megami no Ichizoku?"

Iris gave her an offended look. Kai's question and her father's mentioning put a bad taste in her mouth. She was known in Solstice as the girl-who-stole-the-sword, not the prodigal daughter Iris Strife or the future leader of the Goddess Clan. She had rejected that future the moment her best friend's arm had been hewn off like a tree branch in the name of 'honor'. But the absence of a certain pink ribbon on her arm made her answer coldly, "Yes. Although it's more complicated than you think."

Kai heaved her shoulders and inhaled, sighing on the exhale. Her body ceased its trembling and she regained her usual graceful composure. "Well you'd better figure out who you are, and fast," she clipped. "The wind only blows for so long before it's too late to open the sails." Having overstayed her welcome, Kai exited the waiting room and went to look for Ten and Amon. Iris had no time to brood. Before she knew it, she was stepping onto the marble arena, facing the man with the lance who had defeated Amon.

_I may not have a clan or a hometown anymore, but I know who I am. And I won't let you win_, Iris thought. At the announcer's cry, she confronted the man with the lance, knowing what had to be done. As he jabbed and thrust the blade, she watched his moves closely. She feinted a move to her right, he stabbed, and she tried to wrest the lance from him. For a few seconds they struggled over it, but Iris was able to land a kick against his left shoulder, and his grip slipped. She broke the spear over her knee and tossed it out of the ring.

Neither opponent could hear their own thoughts, with the noise the crowd was making. Shou quaked beneath a set of bleachers, fearing the stomping feet and shattering glass. Some cheered the name of Strife, but most cursed it and uplifted the man's name, which was Leo. The two squared off hand-to-hand now, circling one another like boxers. Leo jabbed left and swung right, Iris evaded him and dealt a savage kick. The man caught her foot, but she spun out of his grip and attacked him again, punching and kicking relentlessly. Leo defended, threw a right hook, and caught Iris in the side, sending her reeling backwards, but she shook it off and threw all of her rage into her attack. She had Leo traveling all over the ring, hoping to draw out his energy reserves.

From the pit near the ladder, where some of the losing fighters had lingered to watch, Amon, Ten, and Kai gazed at the fight with anxious hearts and wary eyes.

Amon chewed on his lower lip, stopped and said, "I've never seen her like this. Even at her angriest, she's never fought like this."

"I thought you were trained warriors?" Kai asked.

"We were trained," Amon agreed. "But I've never seen anyone move like that. They did something to her at Zenith. Something she won't tell me about."

Ten said, "She mentioned exposure to Mako energy."

Kai showed sudden interest. "That would explain it. Those who survive a Mako treatment often report superhuman effects, especially when it comes to the body's ability to handle stress. Movement is easier, thoughts occur clearer, power swells."

"But can she control her power?" Amon asked skeptically, and with concern. "I mean, what if they seriously messed with her using the Mako, and she didn't even know how to control the effects?"

"We'll just have to rely on that power for now," Kai said. "Control will have to come later."

Amon fell silent, his blue eyes watching the ring. After a grueling ten minutes, Iris finally grappled Leo's arm back into a submission hold, pinning him for three seconds. The announcer called her victory, and the three companions sent up as loud of a cheer as they could to drown out the bitter crowd. The remaining matches went by quickly. Iris won three more rounds, and, unbelievably to her, she was declared a finalist. One more battle, and the prize was won.

As she faced her final opponent, while sitting in his private box, Rex was alerted to the smell of smoke. He looked down and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. The symbol etched into his flesh was glowing red-hot, burning through his clothes. He winced and leaned towards one of his bodyguards. "They're coming to collect," he muttered. "I had this tournament planned with no winner—the two warriors who were supposed to fight and feign their deaths have already been beaten!" His fist struck the table in front of him, splintering the wood. "Where the fuck is Nihil? He was in charge of planning. And who had the nerve to let Strife into the tournament without telling me?"

"Sir!" A man with a gold earring cried, running into his box and panting. "Nihil's body was just located in a closet. The person in the robe's an imposter!"

Rex paled and stood up. In the arena below, pummeled by her opponent, Iris reached her Limit Break, Meteor Fist. She unleashed a volley of hits, accompanied by bursts of fiery energy which tore out entire chunks of the marble arena. Her opponent did his best to block, but she overwhelmed him and he was literally thrown from the arena by the force of her attack. A triumphant Iris Strife stood in the center of the ring, her arm held aloft by the announcer. The crowd was going berserk, and Rex knew he had to make an appearance before he had a gods-damned riot on his hands.

"Nevermind the imposter," he said to his bodyguards, slapping a clip into a black handgun before holstering it on his belt. "I'll deal with Strife when she comes to collect her reward. The materia must stay here, or I'm a dead man."

He darted out into the stadium, flanked by his guards. He raised his hands and the crowd managed the noise, but was by no means silent. Iris was ready to fight or run, whichever would prevent her from getting trampled by the mob.

* * *

><p>Shou inched his way to the aisle in the bleachers. Something jerked at the collar of his robe and he half-choked as he was lifted onto his feet, and found himself staring directly into a dark hood. He gasped, too petrified to scream. The hood lifted a finger to its face, obscured by shadow, and said,<p>

"Come. It isn't safe here anymore."

Shou hesitated, but the raging spectators, preparing to stampede the arena, made him think otherwise. The robed figure reached out a metal gauntlet and he felt its coolness as the fingers latched around his wrist. He was led down the stairs and into a hallway, where a ladder ascended to the upper decks.

"Climb this," the robed one told him. "And get away from this ship. Quickly!"

"But my friends!" Shou cried. "I can't just leave them!"

"You must," the hooded one ordered, and the gauntlet hands pushed him towards the ladder. "Now go!"

The intensity of the person's words spurred Shou into action, and he scrambled up the ladder, ran down several corridors, and burst onto the ship's deck. He ran until his feet touched the sand, and only then did he stop, completely out of breath. His ears perked up at a strange buzz, like a swarm of wasps, but it had a ringing quality to it that was unnatural and eerie. A great cracking sound caused him to jump and turn around, and as warm air blasted his face, he saw an explosion of red flames puncture the side of the Dominator.


	17. On the Trail of a Black Wind

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 17: On the Trail of a Black Wind

(A/N: I'm a bit late with the updates, I know. So here are two chapters for the price of one! Thanks to seeker of the skies for the reviews, and to everyone else reading and reviewing, you guys rock. I'm very excited for the next few chapters, so hopefully I'll have an update soon!)

* * *

><p>"Congratulations, you've won!" Rex declared. The mob swelled and threatened to climb over the chainlink fence and cement wall separating them from the arena. Ten, Amon, and Kai sprinted into the arena and formed a protective triangle around Iris, Amon and Ten on the sides and Kai up front. Rex's bodyguards drew their weapons.<p>

"That's close enough!" one of them barked. There was a standoff, broken by Rex's waving hands.

"Come on," he said tiredly. "Are we really going to end it like this?"

"If we have to," Kai said. "So where's the materia?"

Rex turned his microphone off and dropped it in an unceremonious fashion to the ground, where he crushed it under his heel. "I should have known you were with her," he sneered, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He laughed mirthlessly and said, "Now it makes sense. The captain of the Chameleon and a Strife, teaming up."

"To get what was mine in the first place!" Kai spat. "My crew was slaughtered here, because of you!"

"Don't forget those two traitors who sold me the materia in the first place," Rex added, the corner of his mouth hooking into a wry smirk.

"Bastard…" Kai muttered, and she moved to cut him down, but Iris spoke up.

"Don't! It's over. Rex, give us the materia, and we'll spare your life," she said. Amon and Ten took a few steps forward, and the bodyguards mimed them perfectly. No one flinched as a dagger, thrown from the audience, went spinning by Kai's head.

"There's no need for violence," Rex said, and the irony struck him as funny, though he didn't show it. "Come with me. I'll take you to your precious materia."

Iris glanced at her companions. They looked as uncertain as she was, but she nodded and said, "Let's go."

They walked quickly out of the arena, into one of the exits, and the mob lost track of them. They followed Rex down a corridor and up several flights of stairs before arriving at a large safe. Rex entered the combination on an electric panel and one of his bodyguards, at his command, turned the wheel and pulled open the door. There sat a lacquered wooden box, the size of a child's toy chest, brimming with gold coins, jewelry, fine weapons, and orb after orb of glowing materia.

"Finally," Kai breathed a sigh of relief. Rex nodded and the bodyguards went in and carried the chest out, setting it at their feet.

"Thanks," Iris told Rex curtly. "We'll be going now."

Before they could lay hands on their reward, however, Rex drew his handgun and the guards rushed them. No group telepathy had been necessary, for each of the companions had expected such a reaction. Iris ducked as Rex and a guard opened fire, Ten's first dagger found the throat of the guard with the gun, and Kai and Amon attacked the others, taking them out one by one. Ten's next dagger knocked the gun from Rex's hand, and before he could reach into his pocket for another weapon, Iris kneed him in the gut and had him doubled over. She slammed him against the wall and he let out a gurgling cry as she cut off his windpipe in a choke hold.

"Stop!" he gasped, and the remaining two guards ceased their attack.

"Drop your weapons. NOW, or I'll snap his neck!" Iris yelled. The guards set down their swords, followed by the rest of their arsenal. Iris jerked her head. "Amon and Ten, get the chest. We're leaving."

Iris dragged Pontius Rex with her as they made for the stairs, when an explosion rocked the floor and sent them flying off their feet. Rex broke free of Iris's grip and bolted for the stairs, tearing off his shirt as smoke poured from his chest. None of them had time to process this, however, as another tremor shook the ship.

"Bring the tribute, you fools!" Rex cried, and the two bodyguards recovered and grabbed the chest, which in the explosion had skidded over to them. When Iris and company tried to pursue, Rex snatched one of the materia orbs from the top of the treasure pile, waved the materia in an arc above his head, and a wall of flame appeared, preventing them from attacking and cutting off the route to the stairs. Grinning through the flames, bare-chested and looking rather insane, he tossed the materia in the air once and placed it back in the chest. Iris could clearly make out the brand on his skin now, which was as red and scorching as the magical flames that danced in front of them.

"Enjoy your stay in the safe," he said. "We'll be back to deal with you later."

"That brand on your chest," Iris pointed. "What is it?"

"This?" He glanced down at the inscription engraved over his heart, which looked almost like a music note without the rounded ends. "A contract. I get all this," he swept a hand to encompass the ship. "and control of the black market in Key Cerulea, as long as I pay my tribute every month. The bodies of the fallen warriors, and this." He kicked the chest once for emphasis.

"Who'd you make the deal with?" she asked.

"Now why should I tell you?"

She shrugged. "Consider it a last request."

He seemed to find that humorous. "Since you're all going to die, anyway," he drawled, "fine. The mark is a sign of ownership belonging to the Black Wings. Those who deal closely with them bear this 'mark of loyalty'." He smiled cynically, and grimaced as the brand glared bright red, which sent the smell of burning flesh in the air. "They're pissed with me for being late, so if you'll excuse me, Strife and company, I've got a meeting on the deck to attend to."

He snapped his fingers, and the guards followed him up the stairs. Kai waited until he was out of sight before she used her ice materia to cool the flames. Seconds ago they had been sweating, and now Iris's teeth were chattering and Amon's arm grew a layer of frost.

Ten, who was stripping the fallen guards of their knives, looked up at her, confused. "Yo! Why didn't you use that fancy magic shit on 'em while they was still here?"

"I think we should follow them," Kai said, turning to face everyone. "If we can get close enough to the Black Wings, I can put a trace on one of them." She took a small, round device out of her pocket, which had tiny, sharp little legs, like a tick.

Iris said, "What a minute. I thought you knew where their castle was?"

Kai shook her head. "It's a big island. With a trace, we can spare ourselves a lot of searching, and I know you're pressed for time."

Iris grinned, and Amon, also grinning, said, "Brilliant. Let's follow the bastard, shall we?"

They headed up the stairs, careful not to make too much noise, although the ruckus from the arena was loud enough to drown out their footsteps. Judging by the pitter-patter of feet, the audience was fleeing out of any exit they could find. The stairway led straight to the upper deck, where they emerged under starlight and to the sound of crashing waves. Not far ahead, Rex and his bodyguards approached a circle of five man-sized, robed beings, each darker than the night itself, with red eyes that glinted beneath their heavy hoods. The few spectators that had escaped onto the roof lay in smoldering tatters, little more than piles of ash. Far below them, another explosion boomed, and more people poured onto the beach, running headlong for the jungle.

"Gods," Kai murmured. "They're scarier than I imagined. Shit…"

"Don't get cold feet now," Amon said. "You've got to plant that trace."

"I'm…not sure I can." Kai hesitated, looking for something to hide behind. "This deck is completely empty!"

"Then let's confront them head-on," Iris said firmly, sinking her fist into her open palm. She watched Rex place the chest at the feet of the leader. Two Black Wings grabbed it on either side, and their leader began to levitate. Soon the others lifted off the ground. Panicking, Iris said, "Come on!" and took a step forward, preparing to rush over.

Ten grabbed the back of her jacket. "Are you crazy? We gotta take 'em by surprise. Hey wait! Iris!"

"Iris!" Amon called with a tinge of fear, but it was too late. Iris snatched the trace from Kai's hand and bolted full-speed at the Black Wings. Their leader spotted her and raised a hand. Rex dove out of the way, his bodyguards dragging him along, as flames shot from the leader's fingertips. Iris jumped, higher than a normal human being, at least twice as high, and sailed way above the path of the flames. She landed in front of the leader and took a swing, but her fist passed through the robes as if through smoke.

The leader laughed, amused by her antics, and said, in a raspy male voice, "No strike from a mortal can kill me, girl."

"Give me back my mother!" Iris screamed, and she drew the Cure materia from her pocket, wrapped it in her fist, and struck at the leader again. This time, a teal light emanated from between her fingers, shining bright and true as starlight. When her fist collided with the Black Wing leader's chest, he howled in pain and rage and tore away from her. Blue flame enveloped his robes, eating him alive, and he waved and shrieked like a banshee as his brethren scattered.

The magic radiated, stronger and stronger, until a beam of light as intense as that from a lighthouse drove the Black Wings toward the edge of the deck. Iris stepped closer, and they retreated. When they had had enough, they flew in the air, robes sweeping and side-winding. Iris threw the trace at the closest one, and it latched onto their robes. They hovered down the side of the ship and flew over the ocean. The way they sailed over the water, like a nightmarish fog or night-wraiths, sent chills down Iris's spine. She heard feet pounding as the others caught up with her. A thud as Amon and Ten set the chest down. Rex and his guards had apparently cut their losses and fled.

Ten gawked, "The hell was that light?"

Iris opened her palm. The Cure materia sat, dull and gray in the moonlight. She exchanged looks with Amon, who appeared withdrawn and uncertain of what to think.

"They won't be bothering us anymore tonight," she said, pocketing the materia.

"And the trace?" Kai asked.

"Latched onto one of them just as they flew off the side of the ship."

Kai pumped her fist. "Nice job."

"Yeah," Amon repeated flatly. "Nice job."

"What's your problem?" Iris asked. "Or are you just pissed because you didn't help at all?"

"What did you say to me?" He took a step toward her, but Ten caught a whiff of something he didn't like. He stood between them and said, slowly so they understood how serious he was, "Calm down. Right now."

"I'm calm," Amon said, clearly anything but.

"I don't like the way you're looking at me," Iris said, raking coals across the flame. "What's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me?" he asked, shocked. "What's gotten into YOU? "

Iris opened her mouth, but a scratchy boy's voice caught her attention. "Guys? Guys!"

Shou, standing on the beach, jumped up and down, waving his arms frantically. "Heeeeey! Down here!"

"Shou!" Kai called. "We're coming. Stay there." She directed her gaze to Amon and Iris and, eyeing them, she said hotly, "Can we PLEASE save this for later and get this back to my ship?" Her hand patted the treasure chest with the possessive affection only a pirate can show. Iris said nothing, but Amon grunted, "Fine" and helped her carry the chest down to the beach. Iris watched them go, and felt her sour mood blacken even further.

Shou, on the other hand, was overcome with amazement.

"I saw the whole thing!" he gushed. "First the crowd went nuts, then I got out and saw the explosion, and just as I thought you guys were dead, I hear 'GIVE ME BACK MY MOTHER' and FWOOSH! there was that light, that crazy light!…Oooooh man, so cool!"

"Beats fireworks any day I guess," Ten grunted, and Kai chortled.

"Hey Iris, how did you do that thing with the light?" Shou asked. She shrugged, walking ahead of them towards the trail. Behind them, the wreck of the Dominator had ceased burning. She would be happy to never enter there again, not even if she lived a thousand years. Although, a sick part of her had taken pleasure in the fighting. Deep down, she knew this was the part Amon was talking about, and she didn't have an answer for him. Not yet.

"Hey kid," Ten spoke up. "How did you escape, anyway?"

"Oh, crap," Shou said, palming his forehead. "I almost forgot. This person in a black robe showed up and helped me out. She said—at least, I think it was a she—that it wasn't safe, and that I had to get out. She led me to a ladder and then disappeared."

"A black robe?" Amon repeated with suspicion. "Did you get a good look at her?"

The boy with the monkey ears shook his head. "She had on silver armor beneath her robes, but that was all I saw."

"Hmmm," Ten mused. "Don't sound like a Black Wing to me."

"No, it doesn't," Amon agreed. "That doesn't mean they were on our side, either."

"But she saved my life," Shou pointed out.

"You should always know who's buyin' your drinks, kid," he said, but the analogy was lost on the boy.

"Huh?"

"Look," Ten said. "What Amon's tryin' to say is that you shouldn't trust someone who has to hide. If they're innocent, they've got nothin' to be afraid of, so why hide behind a hood?"

"Maybe she had her reasons. I suppose I'll never get to thank her," Shou said, with a sincerity that only children can show.

"All right, everyone quiet down until we get back into town," Kai said. "Don't want to attract the attention of bandits," They entered the jungle, the trees cutting off the view of the heavens above. They listened to the trills of insects and the rustlings of nocturnal animals, the wind sighing in the leaves, and each felt grateful that they had survived the ordeal and would live to see another morning. But as the next task dawned on them, and they walked deeper into blackness, the future blurred and became even more obscure.

* * *

><p>"Again!"<p>

A jet of fire lit over the ocean, like a puff of dragon flame.

"Pathetic. That couldn't scorch the eyebrows off the Chocobo Sage. Again!"

Another puff, this time weaker. Amon lowered his cybernetic arm, which glittered with newly-equipped materia orbs, and wiped sweat from his forehead with his human hand.

"Damn, this is tougher than I thought," he said, looking over at his new mentor. Kai got up from the barrel she'd been seated on and joined him by the edge of the Chameleon's deck. She placed her hands on her hips, tossed a stray lock of hair over her shoulder, and said,

"What about materia did you think would be easy?"

Amon rubbed the back of his head and shrugged. "I dunno. I thought magic was just pointing and muttering a few words." He extended his robotic hand in the shape of a gun and pretended to fire at an enemy. "Then bam!"

"Bam?" The pirate raised a dubious eyebrow.

"Bam." He echoed, grinning to the point of lunacy.

"As I've told you and the others, over and over," Kai said pointedly. "Magic is a lot more than wanting it to happen. You have to sacrifice some of your spiritual energy to make up for the energy you're borrowing from the spiritual realm. Once you have control over your own energy stores, you can work with the materia and it'll grow as your experience grows."

Amon nodded. "I get that. I guess I'm just not a spiritual person." He held up his mechanic arm. "Kinda hard when you're part inhuman." The frustration became evident on his face, and he slouched his shoulders a bit.

With hands neither tentative nor shaking, she reached out and grasped his cybernetic hand, tracing her thumbs along the workings, the wiring, the joints and knuckles that all came together and formed a functional limb. Amon let her do this, though he knew she was unaware that he never let anyone mess with his arm, or even touch it, unless they were his mechanic.

"Sometimes spells won't work because we're unable to concentrate," she said gently. "I know something's been bothering you since the arena." She saw his expression darken, took her hands off of his, and added quickly, "I know I haven't known you long or anything, but I'm used to running a crew, and if someone's upset the whole ship doesn't run..."

"No, you're right," Amon said. He placed his elbows on the ship's gunwale and stared at the ocean, which was as smooth and calm as a crystal pool. They had been sailing past small clusters of islands all day, which appeared more frequently the farther south they went. A breeze lifted his dark bangs out of his eyes, and Kai saw the light of the sun catch the blue in them, as cobalt as the metal of his arm, but with yellow rings around the pupils. He had a well-defined jaw line, a long, straight nose, high cheekbones, and his skin had a healthy tan glow, yet something about his eyes and the tautness of his lips suggested something wounded, something hidden. Since she had known him, which admittedly wasn't long, she had often caught him with that worried expression, when he thought no one was looking. It wasn't that he did it so often that everyone noticed, but she was a keen observer of people.

Ready to talk, Amon sighed heavily and said, "Back at the arena, when Iris was fighting…I've known her my whole life, and she's never fought like that. I've never seen that side of her before. She's always been kinda gentle, you know? Like her mother. Not cowardly, although there've been plenty of times I've saved her from stuff." He chuckled as some memory floated up, but the laughter left his features quickly. "She just doesn't like to fight unless she has to. And at Zenith, they made her fight. Every day. And they punished her when she wouldn't."

"What did they want with her? Why do all those experiments?" Kai wondered.

"If I knew the answer, I could find a solution," he said. "But it's got something to do with that damned Mako. Five generations later, and we're still answering for Shinra's mistakes. They used to expose their soldiers to Mako…it had terrible side-effects." He stopped, not wanting to say more.

"Yes, I know about that," she said with sympathy. She pressed a finger against her bottom lip, rubbing it thoughtfully. "One would have thought that five generations would have depleted the Mako trace so badly that it would be of no use to scientists."

"Apparently not. She's never had any extraordinary powers before this…so why'd they have to go and mess with her?" He pounded his fist on the gunwale. "Who knows what those bastards want…as long as I'm alive, I swear, I won't let them take her, or any of us, again. Zenith is evil." Amon gripped the edges of the gunwale tightly and stretched his back, his good shoulder sore from the fighting and the strain. There were so many other things he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the proper words, and he wasn't sure if saying anything would change their fate. To take his mind off things, Kai had him run through a few exercises that would help him channel his spiritual energy better, which included a form of Tai-Chi. Amon apparently knew some already, from his training in Solstice, and when he tried his materia again, he produced the equivalent of a flamethrower blast. The air wavered above the water where he had cast the spell.

"All right!" He pumped his fist, smiling broadly. He turned to Kai, who gave him a short, generous nod, but otherwise looked unimpressed. The corners of Amon's mouth dropped, and he muttered, "Come on, I think that could have singed more than a few eyebrows. In fact, that was an 11/10 on the eyebrow scale."

She turned up her nose and shrugged. He folded his arms, leaning against the gunwale, and said, "Oh, like you could do better?"

With impressive speed, Kai drew her sword, pointed the tip out over the ocean, and launched a glittering cloud of freezing ice that froze the waves into place, in an area the size of the deck they were standing on. Her face appeared slightly haggard, and Amon noticed a few lines about her brow that hadn't been there a few moments ago.

"What the hell was that?" He leaned towards the water, his breath misting in air that had a moment ago been humid and hot.

"That was Ice 2," Kai said, swiping her blade back into her sash with one fluid motion. "Took me a long time to mature this materia. A lot of battles…" She trailed off, perhaps remembering things best left in the void of time.

They continued practicing for another hour or so, until Kai decided they should make a supply run at a small port town. It was to be their final stop before they continued following the signal from the trace to the Mideel continent. They disembarked on the sand, walking towards a shanty town where the islanders sold fruit and the most basic of medical cures. As Iris was inquiring about some ether potions, she noticed the elderly shop vendor staring at her arm, where she had recently tied a pink ribbon.

"You've seen something like this before?" she asked him, holding up her arm.

"Naught but a day ago, miss," the vendor answered. His eyes flicked from her eyes to her hair, and he appeared to her quite old, and she appeared to him quite young, like a picture out of a storybook from his childhood.

Iris leaned closer to him and asked, with more than a hint of importance, "How many of them?"

"Were about two-dozen or so of 'em. Led by a big man in a blue cape, tough lookin' fella."

"Did they say which way they were headed?"

The vendor nodded. "Yer not gonna believe this, but they was lookin' for the fortress of the Black Wings. I don't even wanna tell yer the name of it. Place is cursed. But they looked like they was on an important mission…"

"Yes," Iris breathed. "Very important. Thank you so much." She bought a few potions from him, paid quickly, leaving extra gil on his counter, and ran up to Amon, who was holding the biggest pineapple she'd ever seen.

"Put that down," she said breathlessly. "I've got news."

And she told him that the Goddess Clan warriors had been here, that they were headed for Malkuth, and were probably a day ahead of them at the most.

Amon scratched his chin and asked, "So, does this change our plans at all?"

"Why would it?" Iris responded. They agreed to stick with the plan of trying to find a way to sneak into the fortress, attacking only when necessary. There were a lot of things that could go wrong—namely, stirring up trouble in a "hive full of bigots and lunatics," as Ten delicately put it—but they didn't have much of a choice.

They lingered in the small meeting room in the ship's hull, listening to the evening broadcast on the radio. The announcer mentioned severe damages to parts of Neo Midgar, but no more storms had appeared up north. The weatherman called the hurricane a "freak accident of nature," but most informed people knew better. There were no new updates on the barrier up north, and they had still heard nothing from Bone Village.

"And no word at all about Solstice," Iris said bitterly, switching the radio off. "I guess an entire town burning to the ground is only worth a few days' coverage."

"Or they don't want people prying," Amon added.

"Your village burned down?" Shou asked. It occurred to Iris that they hadn't exactly gotten the boy up to speed on recent events, but she didn't feel obligated to tell a fourteen-year-old too much information, especially knowing the president had men out searching for him. As they disbanded from the meeting room, Shou piped,

"Hey! Isn't anyone going to tell me anything?"

Iris, Amon, Ten, and Kai exchanged looks. Finally, Ten said, "You all go ahead and take care of the ship. I'll tell Shou what he needs to know."

He poured the boy a glass of iced tea from the pitcher on the table and handed it to him. "Listen up, kid," he began, and Iris heard him begin the story from the start. She still didn't like having someone so young aboard the ship, but she supposed he was only four years younger than her, and he had done a good job patching them up after the arena fight. Still, there was no way they were letting him go on the island. He would have to stay on the ship, and if they didn't return, he was to press the ship's autopilot feature, which would sail him directly to the nearest port.

She climbed into her bunk and stared up at the ceiling. She and Amon had never really made up after their fight on the wreck of the Dominator. But she had her mind on other things. After weeks of struggle, her mother was finally within her reach. She could rescue her from the Black Wings, return to Solstice, and then, perhaps then, her father would be able to look at her with pride once more, and the villagers would respect her again. Her hand went to the Cure materia in her pocket and she held it close to her face, gazing at her balloon-shaped reflection on the stone's surface. Merely thinking about the materia caused the stone to glow a dull teal, the same color as her eyes. She had been astonished at how easily she could use materia. With Cure and Lightning equipped to her, Ice and Fire to Kai, Fire to Amon, and Earth to Ten, she felt as though their chances of leaving Malkuth alive were something of weight. She felt the ship's gentle rocking in the cradle of the ocean and closed her eyes.

Above deck, while Ten was telling a long story to Shou, and Iris was dreaming of better days, Amon was standing by his new haunt, the prow of the Chameleon, where he held onto a cable that ran from one of the sails to a peg near the front of the ship. The sun had set, and the constellations of Shiva and Ifrit above were intensely bright, watching down with stellar eyes. The water below, lit by a rare Mako-feeding algae native to the Mideel continent, glowed blue-green. It gave off a pleasant warmth, as one is able to feel bathwater before submerging. The air smelled of salt and sea grass, which blew from the nearby islands. He held a bottle of strong beer in his hand and finished the dregs of it, tossing the bottle down a waste chute nearby.

"Looks unreal, doesn't it?" Kai said from behind him.

"Like a mirror, or materia," he replied, not turning around.

"Still upset?"

He didn't answer her question, which he knew to be harmless in its nature. There was a great deal he was still upset about. Before he could say anything, he heard a splash, followed by the sigh that one makes after taking a long drink. He leaned over the edge of the ship, holding onto the rope as his lifeline, and saw Kai's blurred frame swim out from under the ship. Her body cut swiftly through the water, and he could tell that she was a skilled swimmer. More than skilled—as he watched her, he wondered how someone could move through water that fast.

Kai came up for air beneath him. She had on a simple, wine-colored bikini, and the glowing algae on the sand contrasted starkly, turning her hair and skin dark.

"Don't you have a ship to run, captain?" he asked.

"This is what I do to relax," she told him, and flashed a reassuring smile. He felt one tugging on the corners of his lips. She brought up a dripping hand and beckoned him to join her. "Besides," she added, "in case you haven't noticed, the Chameel's slowed down. I want her to rest an hour before I activate the invisibility."

"Right," Amon said, leaning back onto the deck. She could only see the upper part of his face now. A long minute passed.

"Are you coming in or not?" she called. His face disappeared. Kai treaded water, floating on her back to look at the stars. The gem on Shiva's forehead, the North Star, burned with white light. Then, a great splash rocked the water, and Amon swam clumsily over to her. He had stripped down to his boxers, and she found her eyes tracing the muscles along his arms and chest.

"What?" he asked, his hair hanging in his eyes. He flicked it out of the way, spraying her with water. She laughed and said,

"Nothing! You're a good swimmer."

"Liar," he teased, splashing her. "I couldn't stay afloat in a kiddie pool for long, not with this thing attached to me." He gazed up at the ship longingly. "I can't believe I'm in here…"

"But you are." Kai drew him away from the ship, where they swam in long circles. Amon's extra weight from his metal arm made it difficult for him to stay afloat, but she held onto him, and together they floated in the warm embrace of the ocean. A few hours later, on the cusp of dawn, the gray cliffs of the Mideel continent loomed on the horizon.


	18. Malkuth, Part I: Amalgamation

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 18: Malkuth, Part 1: Amalgamation

Through the tiny slit in her cell, Alexa Strife watched the first gilded ray of daylight slowly creep in, a bar of gold against coal black. Between the dank, dark stone walls, with only her wooden cot and an old chamber pot inside, she normally would have welcomed the light of the sun. But the woman did not look up as she sat, her long brown hair trailing down her shoulders and back, legs dangling (her shins still shapely and plump; they had kept her well-fed during her captivity), hands gripping the edge of her thin mattress, as her daughter's had in an underground laboratory not long ago.

She couldn't have known that, of course. All she knew of Iris's whereabouts came to her in dreams, in bits and pieces, in flashes of emotion. A tunnel in the mountains here, a touch of anger there, a thrill of excitement or fear, and, more recently, a brilliant, stunning wave of teal that left her sitting up, breathless. Increasingly, the planet's voice reverberated in the woman's soul, waking her in a cold sweat at night. Such was the voice of a world, the total amalgamation of life—not words, but bursts of emotion, energy, and innumerable sounds, all in one wave. If she could translate it into human language, it sounded like,

_I hurt, I suffer. I hurt, I suffer. _

_Why do my wounds refuse to heal? _

_I must make amends…_

_I will make amends._

Part of her hurt as well, but it was a distant pain in her soul, a kind of heaviness that made it difficult to move and muddled her thoughts. It was the pain of a mother separated from her child. She had always been fine-tuned to the planet's 'feelings'. Its ups and downs became her ups and downs, until she had learned to control it. But sometimes the planet's calling was too strong. All she could do then was run for the wilderness and lay there, clutching the earth, listening with one ear in the dirt, or a hand on a tree or a stone for support. Any passerby that had seen her (and she always made sure she was alone) would have thought her merely another crazy person in an insane world. How could they know she was hearing their heartbeat, in sync with the planet's heartbeat, their blood, a drop in the flowing stream of tectonic plates, of magma, and the Lifestream? How could they not hear the spine-wrenching cries of mountains cracking, seas roaring, or the ear-piercing shriek of a drill bursting the earth's crust in the north? And that was only the noise from the planet, not including the millions of people still living on it, and quite a few dead ones stirred in their eternal slumber as well.

No, not everything was in sync with the song. Some things hit discordant notes, falling short or coming on too strong, too intense. But the largest and most deafening of those sounds emanated from one place, one being, and he was approaching her cell at that very moment. Every time he drew near, the planet's voice grew fainter, and in its stead, a horrendous cacophony of noise drove into her marrow, like a thousand nails to a chalkboard.

The noise came from right outside her door. She ground her molars; her knuckles turned white from gripping the mattress so tightly, but these were the only indications of her pain. Otherwise, she appeared as poised a stone angel in a graveyard. The wooden door to her cell creaked open. A terrible wraith greeted her, clad head to toe in shredded black robes. The only way she knew a man of flesh and blood stood beneath those robes was the crescent-shaped sliver of his smile.

"Today is the day," he said.

Alexa gazed at him, reading the man's energy signature, which amplified every horrible thing occurring in the world, projecting it like music only she was attuned to. She sensed his scars, his memories, a life of torture and abuse, dealing out torture and abuse in return—the vicious cycle. None of which he had inflicted on her, not directly, anyway. He knew better. He needed her for his ultimate goal.

He was a fool, blinded by his own hatred. Alexa lowered her gaze to the floor and said, "Wretched creature. I am only sorry you cannot see how twisted you've become."

Bylet'h made a sound of acknowledgement. His voice was barely above a rasp as he said, "I do not deny that my time in this world has made me vile in the eyes of some." There formed the slightest trace of a sneer on his lips. "But compared to the rest of the world, I've not witnessed much of a difference."

"Lift that cowl from your eyes, wraith, and look again."

The High Priest of the Black Wings chuckled hoarsely and said, "Tonight, the shadow of the One Winged Angel falls over Gaia. He will cleanse the world in fire and darkness. And you're going to help him return."

Alexa bowed her head and murmured, "I know." Though she shed no tears, Bylet'h could sense the woman's turmoil, feeding upon it like a leech. Satisfied, he shut the door, and the overwhelming noise faded by a fraction.

She waited until she was certain he had gone, before rising to the window and peering out at the sunrise. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of the jungle, intermingling with the smell of charcoal and flame. "Iris, my Iris," she chanted into the wind, a lullaby from her daughter's childhood.

"Be strong."

* * *

><p>They sailed the Chameleon up a channel belonging to the river Charsis, which flowed through the island of Mideel, north to south. According to Kai's trace, if they followed the river, they would find the castle at the heart of the isle. Once they had the ship successfully docked, Kai pored the radar map on the ship's navigation screen. The others stood looking over her shoulder, trying to discern anything they might have missed from their limited data. They were all feeling especially antsy, but none was worse than Iris, who had to flex her fingers constantly to keep her hands from shaking.<p>

_It's like I know I was meant to be standing here, in this ship, on this beach,_ she mused. She spotted a dark patch near the heart of the island, which stood out like a bruise. She pointed to it. "This patch of shadow, here. What is it?"

"That," Ten answered, "used t'be a village."

"Used to be?"

Ten nodded gravely. "It was flooded when the Lifestream broke through the earth's surface, in a rush of Mako. The buildings, people, the land, all were swallowed up. Happened durin' Meteorfall. The whole town was abandoned after that."

Kai rubbed her chin thoughtfully and said, "The perfect place to build a fortress, really. No one would think to go there, in the thick of the jungle, but you'd be crazy to stay. The radiation levels must be through the roof."

"They're crazy, all right," Iris muttered. She gazed at a red dot on the screen, which pulsed every now and then as the trace's signal refreshed. The dot had not moved for almost a day now. It sat on the cusp of the Lifestream pool. For a moment, the darkness in the navigation roomed seemed to press in. Then Amon said what she was thinking.

"So Malkuth was built practically over this Mako pool." He looked distraught, as if this changed their situation drastically. He let out a hiss of air between his teeth and said, "Another thing for us to avoid…and we still don't know, exactly, what we're fighting when we reach the castle." He began to fiddle with the materia on his arm, checking to make sure his stone fit snugly in its slot beneath his wrist.

Kai flashed a grim smile and said, "We'll find out when we get there, won't we? Think of it as a surprise."

"I hate surprises," Ten growled, and stepped back from the radar map. "Shou! Get in here!"

The pitter-patter of light, quick footsteps, and Shou ran into the room, his black hair secured in a ponytail at the base of his neck. He had on cutoff shorts and a black t-shirt with white graffiti lettering, which read "Poison" and which, Iris thought, contrasted against his gentle nature almost comically.

"Yes?" he said.

"Let's go over the plan, one more time," Ten told him. The boy sighed, and Iris and Amon didn't look pleased, either. They had already run through the plan what felt like a hundred times. Ten made sure Shou knew how to work the ship's autopilot controls, making the boy explain what each of the buttons and pulleys did one final time. Iris and Amon headed up to the deck, to practice with their materia.

"Now you'll only be able to control so much, without any of us here to help you," Ten repeated.

"Yes, I know," Shou said woodenly.

"That means things could overheat, with no one near the ship's core. You won't be able to adjust the sails or fire any weapons—don't smile at me like that Nath-, er, boy, I don't even wanna think about you behind a cannon. Now, all you can do is check navigation and make sure she's takin' you to the nearest port town, Kobana. We have her set to take you there at nearly full-speed. You should reach Kobana in two hours."

"Can't I just crank the speed up to maximum?" Shou asked.

"No way," Kai emphasized. "You're not operating my ship at full capacity, understand? And no invisibility, either. That drains the core."

"Yes ma'am," he answered, not wanting to point out that if they didn't return to the ship, it no longer belonged to Kai, and she wouldn't have to worry about the state of it. Dead people generally didn't own anything, much less care. His stomach did a flip, not the first time since they'd arrived at the island, at the thought of his newfound friends not returning from Malkuth.

_Stop it, _he thought. _There are lots of other reasons they wouldn't make it back in a day. There's the hike through the jungle, they could be taken prisoner, they'd have to carry Iris's mother if she got hurt…_

None of which made him feel any better. He decided to focus on what Ten was saying again.

"Give us a full day," Ten continued. "If no one comes back after that, what are you gonna do?"

Shou walked over to the control panel. "I'm gonna press this, then enter the key code." He pretended to type on the control board's panel. "Then I'm going to set the ship's speed—sixty knots. Not eighty. Then I'm going to steer her away from shore and press this button to activate the thrusters."

Kai's ship had a rather interesting mode of locomotion. The motor, a round core that took in energy from the sun via the sails and converted it into electricity, dispensed power to a set of thrusters, which could accelerate the ship when it was above the water at very high speeds. When the ship was submerged, the core diverted power to a set of propellers, but the thrusters could still be used in emergencies. The motor was as silent as a stone, which allowed the ship to move stealthily through the water. This, and perhaps another thousand things or so to tempt a teenage boy, was the reason Kai and Ten had to be sure Shou knew the importance of restraint.

"All right," Ten said, convinced that Shou was competent at last. The boy had gotten almost everything correct during their first run-through, and seemed to remember things as if he had a recorder instead of a brain, but Ten wasn't ready to acknowledge that yet. "Good 'nuff."

Shou nodded and went with them deck-side. A bolt of lightning streaked across the ocean, followed by a clap of thunder. Iris stood, balanced on the ship's balcony, one arm extended out over the water. Quickly following the lightning bolt, a fireball flew in the same direction. Amon stood below her, his cybernetic arm pointed like a gun. Their hair and clothes swayed in the wind, kicked up by the burst of energy released by the magic. Amon's fireball exploded in the air like a large firework.

"Whoa," Shou marveled, sucking in a breath. Even though he was only fourteen, he knew it was a rare thing indeed to witness magic. Because of his own affinity with healing magic, Chiron had reminded him almost daily that he, too, was rare, and that was why his uncle wanted him gone. Or part of the reason at least. Now, he didn't feel so alone.

"I can't wait to learn how to use materia like that," he said, his spirits lifted.

"Tell you what, kid," Ten said, one hand in the pocket of his trench coat. "If you do a good job manning the ship while we're gone, when I get back I'll teach ya myself."

"You promise?"

"On my honor," Ten said, holding up his right hand. Embedded in his fingerless glove, his Earth materia glinted, golden and radiant in the sunlight. The companions went across the deck towards the shoreline, stopping at the ramp, where they all turned to give Shou their goodbyes. But it was Ten who swept him up with one arm, delivering a crushing hug, before setting him back on his feet.

"Take care, kid," he said. "I'll see you when we get back. Have her prepped for us, okay?"

Shou saluted, his monkey ears twitching. "Yes sir!"

Ten smiled, and Iris made a fake fainting motion to Amon. They couldn't remember the last time they had seen their old boss genuinely smile. As they treaded onto white sand, the jungle rising before them in a wall of green, black, and gray, Iris turned to Ten and asked, "He reminds you of your son, doesn't he?"

"Kid," Ten said, looking at Iris intently beneath his bold eyebrows. "You startin' to scare me, thinkin' about other people."

"Yeah well, everyone can change," she grumbled, her cheeks flushing. After a few minutes of hiking, their clothes felt soggy and damp, and beads of sweat collected on their skin. The air was thick and humid, to the point where it felt suffocating, but at the same time, it filled them with a tingling energy that made the feet want to walk faster and the eyes extra alert. They followed the river Charsis, which was the flattest, quietest river Iris had ever encountered. The water was damn near unsettling, it sat so still, reflecting the jungle, making it seem like there were two worlds, the one she currently stood in, and the not-quite-real one below.

It wasn't long before the jungle seemed to swallow them, bathing everything in dark green shadow. Mottled patches of sunlight burst through the trees, and every now and then a great hole in the canopy opened up, revealing blue skies. After her initial anxiety had ebbed, Iris tried to listen for birds, but there were none. Every so often, they heard a twig snap that was not from their party, or a plant rustle nearby, but for the most part, the jungle had only a heavy silence that pressed in on the ears.

"Don't you think it's eerie," Iris said under her breath.

"Hmmm?" Ten said.

"I mean the silence. Where are all the animals?"

"Dunno," he answered. "But the less we run into, the better."

They pressed on, pushing aside fauna, large star-shaped orange flowers, ferns with fronds the size of a small car. As they trekked deeper into the jungle, Iris began to feel a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, and she knew they were being watched. She made eye contact with Amon and Ten behind her. They drew weapons as a precaution, and Iris caught up with Kai, who had been leading the way and following a small, round navigator in the palm of her hand.

"What is it?" the pirate asked in hushed tones. Her hair clung to the sides of her face.

"We're being watched."

"We've been watched since we came in here." Kai slowed down but continued pushing plants aside. "We have to keep moving. Don't stop."

"Why don't we walk along the riverbank?" Iris asked, pulling a branch out of her way. It slipped through her fingers before she could get a good grip, nearly whacking Ten across the face on the rebound.

"Watch it!" he hissed.

"Sorry." Iris turned back to Kai. "Seems like we'd make faster progress."

Kai said, "Too out in the open. Not safe."

Though it was only three or so in the afternoon, the thickness of the trees, and the air, and, Iris thought, something perhaps more sinister in the atmosphere, covered the sun and replaced it with twilight. She felt as though the sun was already setting on them, and the shadows in the jungle lengthened. After a half hour or so, Amon ripped a handful of leaves and twigs out of the mechanics of his arm, one of many handfuls, cursing in a low voice. He said, "All right, I've had about enough of this."

"Get used to it," Kai said over her shoulder to him. She waved the radar in the air as a reminder. "We're not even remotely close yet."

"Yeah, well, we couldn't have picked a better route." His eyes darted to the smooth, white stones that lined the riverbank, about fifty feet to their left. "Why don't we do what Iris suggested and follow the river? We're making enough noise to attract every creature within ten miles."

"And we'd be going faster," Iris chimed in.

Kai stopped that time, spinning on her heel. "Look, I'm telling you all it's a bad idea. But if you-" her words were cut off by the agonized cry of some unknown beast. The sound cut through the thick jungle like a sonic boom, and Iris felt the hairs on her arms stand up. There were human feelings in that howl—rage, sorrow, desperation, fear.

"The hell is that?" Ten looked around wildly when it had ceased.

Amon lowered his arm blade. "A wolf, maybe?"

"That wasn't no wolf."

"Shhh!" Kai hissed. Iris tensed, straining her ears and eyes, every shadow a hulking form coming to get them. She told herself to think logically, not trusting what her senses were feeding her through fear. That was the kind of thinking that would have gotten her killed at Zenith.

The jungle was deathly still. Her own heartbeat thudded in her ears, and for crazy moment she wished it'd stop. After a few minutes of hearing nothing, they kept on, taking extra care to avoid making noise. The trail they were blazing was slowly getting steeper, and moss-covered, sharp rocks protruded from the ground like scales.

"Whatever that was, it sounded big," Iris said, ducking under a vine.

She heard Amon make a sound of agreement from behind her. "Maybe that's what's got the animals scared…huh? Why've we stopped?" He nearly collided with Ten's broad back, as Iris and Kai bent to examine something in a clearing. Iris knelt near a bunch of flat stones, which had been arranged by hand into the shape of a splayed wing. The whole thing was about twelve in length and eight feet wide, and the clearing was cut into a perfect half-circle. But that wasn't what had caught her and Kai's attention.

The stones had been coated in fresh blood. Not a single insect or carrion animal had entered the clearing to investigate. Amon and Ten joined them, and Ten muttered, "Damned lunatics. What is it?"

"Some kind of black magic?" Iris guessed. The sight of it felt strange, as if she had seen such a thing before, though she was positive she hadn't. Kai leaned forward, the tip of her nose about to enter the half-circle, but Iris held out her arm and stopped her, saying, "Don't." The pirate captain gave her a quizzical look. Iris said nothing and stood up, her fingers trembling. She felt it. Something was drawing near. A jolt of electricity flowed down her spine. She knew what that warning meant.

"We're being sized up," she murmured. "Everyone get ready."

Amon held up his arm blade, Ten drew two knives from his trench coat, and Kai held her scimitar in an attack stance. They scanned the jungle around them. A square of shadow fell across the top half of Iris's face. The others saw her eyes light up, burning with ghostly blue flame.

Something black and covered in spikes burst through the foliage behind Amon. Ten dodged out the way as a pair of silver horns streaked past him, and Kai and Iris cast Ice and Lightning spells simultaneously. The blue and white magic struck the creature; it screeched and bounded back into the thick of the jungle. Iris caught a glimpse of a muscular flank, with silver armor plating along the thigh, and a long, reptilian tail with wicked, thorny barbs the size of her hand on the tip.

More rustling came from all around them, along with growls and snorts as more of the creatures circled.

"GO!" Iris shouted. They broke into a run, splitting up to avoid the clearing with the bloodied stones. One of the monsters came bounding after them, entering the half-circle. They were large, at least fifteen feet from horn tip to tail, and about chest-height. The creature trilled in pain. Iris craned her head back to see the monster burst into ashes mid-leap, disintegrating into black dust. She sucked in a breath—her instincts had been right about the stones. They kept running as heavy footfalls thudded on either side. Iris caught glimpses of them between the tree trunks. They had the big and middle legs of a bull, their front legs that of a lizard, with two curving horns protruding from their jaws. Their foreheads were rounded, covered in bony plates, and their tiny, rage-filled eyes were bright red against black.

The closest bounded behind them on their heels. A vein stood out on Ten's forehead as he raised his hand, his materia rippling the air with golden light. The earth crumbled beneath the creature's legs, and it buckled with a thud that shook Iris's feet.

"Amon!" she cried as one of the monsters charged him from a different angle, its head lowered, horn tips aimed at his guts. Amon held his ground, his hands out wide, and waited at the last second in front of a tree, before throwing himself out of the creature's warpath. But the animal was sprier than it looked—it leapt onto the tree, pushing off with all six legs, launching at Amon again. He thrust his arm forward, slicing at the creature's belly, and dove into a roll, emerging between the beast's hind legs. Black blood dribbled from the monster's chest where he'd cut it.

"The bellies are the soft spot! Hit them there!" he shouted.

WHAM! Ten's Earth spell launched the ground beneath the animal's feet upward, which truck it like a hammer blow in its wounded chest cavity. The beast groaned, its legs gave out, and Amon moved in to finish it off. Another two creatures sprang forward to defend their fallen pack member, snarling, baring large white teeth.

"Come on, you ugly fucks!" Amon snarled back. Iris and Kai took his side, with Ten trapping the creatures from behind. One of the brutes lashed out at Ten with its tail. He leapt high in the air as a cluster of barbs whipped his way. The other beast charged Iris's group, horns lowered, but at the last second turned right, aiming for Iris. She hadn't anticipated it to move so quickly, she sprang agilely enough, but found her backside narrowly missing the horns as she sailed over the beast's armored skull. Up came the tail between her legs, the barbs coming at her; she let loose a panicked cry, but Kai's scimitar came slicing down, severing the tail before the barbs could hit her. She landed on her feet and out of the way of the tail.

The severed appendage hit the earth with a heavy _thwap!, _where it twitched and coiled like an angry snake. The beast moaned in pain, but it spun around, determined to attack them again. Red eyes glared balefully at them beneath its protruding forehead, nostrils flared, its grinding jaws a mix of bull and boar. It pawed at the ground with its front eagle-talons and charged. Its companion, having deflected three of Ten's daggers with its armor, spun around and rushed them from behind.

"Shit!" Amon cried. Four sharpened horn tips rocketed at them, seeking out soft flesh to tear, entrails to spill...except the beasts whooshed by each other, their shoulder armor screeching with an explosion of sparks. Iris had vaulted off of Amon's shoulders, grabbing onto the branches above, and Amon and Kai had sprang to the left and right. Iris crouched on a branch above, watching the beasts regroup.

"My turn," she said with a baleful glare. She raised her arm, concentrating all her energy, and cast Lightning again. A bolt of powerful electricity descended from the canopy, filling the air with a strange metallic smell and blinding light. It struck one of the monsters, and some of her attack branched off and hit the tailless monster, which decided it'd had enough of pain and fled.

"All right!" Amon whooped. Ten, Kai, and Amon formed a tri-attack pattern, advancing on the remaining monster. Iris heard Kai say "Conserve your spirit energy! Only use your magic if you need to!" before she hopped down from her tree post and joined them. The creature eyed its fallen comrade, which hadn't twitched since Ten's Earth spell had rendered it paralyzed, and it hissed at the four of them, red eyes in slits. Then it turned tail and fled into the bushes, leaving them all standing there, panting.

Iris dusted off her leggings and asked, "Everyone all right?"

Ten, Amon, and Kai all checked themselves, aside from a few scrapes from stray branches, they were fine. Iris felt less than fine—her mind had descended into a fog, and she knew it was from using the materia. Kai had warned her that overuse of her spirit energy could lead to severe depression, mental exhaustion, narcolepsy, and, in severe cases, a comatose state. She rotated her left shoulder, stretched the muscle, put on an air of overconfidence, and said, "Not bad for a warm-up. Let's keep going."

"Agreed. There'll be more where those things came from," Kai said. She reached into her pocket to retrieve her handheld GPS. "Shit," she cursed, looking around at the ground while feeling her other pockets. "I dropped the GPS. Help me search." They combed the scene of the fight, but aside from claw and hoof prints left by the creatures and many fallen branches, there was no GPS to be found. But they'd come too far already to turn back now.

Amon kicked a branch into the brush and said, "Great! Now what do we do?"

"Wait here," Iris told them, shucking off her jacket and draping it over a fallen log. She sucked in a deep breath and climbed the tallest tree she could find with good holds. Her fingers trembled slightly, but she shook it out and was able to scramble upward, sweat dripping down the back of her neck. Soon enough, her friends vanished in the thick of the leaves below her boots. She was surrounded by a sea of green. Just a few more feet, and she would be through to the other side…

"Man, this materia really tears you a new one," Amon said, squinting up at the tree while sitting on a log. Ten and Kai stood, keeping a close watch on their surroundings. The jungle was exceptionally quiet now that the monsters had fled, and it had their nerves extra wired.

"Tough it out," Ten grunted. "We're nowhere near through this yet."

"Hey Ten," Amon said, rubbing a sore muscle near his mechanical shoulder. He controlled the pitch of his voice, though he knew Iris was well out of hearing range. "You think Alexa's still alive?"

Ten furrowed his brow and shoved his hands in his pockets. "That remains t'be seen," he said somberly. "Though I don't wanna say it to her face…the chances ain't good. I've seen it a million times in the city. The more time that goes by after a kidnapping…"

"Yeah, but this wasn't for money or anything petty like that," Amon interjected. "The Black Wings wanted her alive for something. Still, it's been almost a month…"

"Let's just focus on what we have to do." Ten gazed up at the canopy. "Get to the castle, kill the leader, find Alexa. Then we'll take it from there. Don't over-complicate things with emotion. Keep your head clear, understand?"

Amon admired his friend's tenacity in the face of such hardship. "Understood."

A branch snapped and Iris's left foot gave way. She jammed her boot into a nook between another branch and the tree trunk, and decided then and there that she had climbed enough. She scanned the surface of the treetops, some of the trees growing taller than the one she occupied, and it made looking around somewhat difficult. But between the trees, in more or less the direction they had been heading, sat the black castle from her dreams and nightmares. Even at this distance, its glossy obsidian walls winked at her, in the filtered sunlight through the gray haze of the sky. She caught flashes of red—the flames that were rumored to burn within the citadel's windows. Or perhaps something more sinister. And just beyond the castle, a streak of neon teal, starkly contrasted against the dark of the jungle, like a pit of ancient ice.

Something struck her directly in the skull. She hadn't even seen it coming. Her head whipped back, her fingers slipping off the branch she held onto. For a terrifying moment, her boots teetered on edge, her upper body leaning dangerously outward. Flashes of images she didn't understand tore through her brain, appearing too rapidly for her to make sense of. She heard voices ringing in her eardrums, too many to focus on one, the noise was so immense she thought her head would burst. Then, out of the din of the insanity, her eyes met a pair of teal eyes, not unlike her own, with catlike irises that spoke of unyielding coldness and cruelty. The eyes reflected fire, and in the fire, an entire town, scorched to blackened cinders.

Those eyes bore into her, into her very soul, and she fought them with all her might as they tried to access her most secret memories. Her childhood anxiety as her parents argued in the other room, private moments between Amon and past lovers, city lights casting shadows through the blinds, the phone hanging off the receiver, waving above her as she lay on the ground with an empty liquor bottle in her hand, the word "FAILURE" etched into the wooden floorboards, her nails torn and bloody…and lastly, her mother, standing in an empty field of gold, her back turned to her, so far away…the field flattened, became stone walls, a tall shadow towered over her, wrapped its fingers around her neck…her mother opened her mouth, but there was no sound.

_Strife,_ someone hissed, and the voice was pure malice. _I've found you at last…_

"GET OUT!" Iris screamed, over and over. Pain flooded her senses, cutting off all communication. She screamed again, and fell into nothing.

* * *

><p>Not far away, Bylet'h chanted as he worked busily at his altar, mixing ingredients and tipping contents from beakers into a clay bowl.<p>

"Thus it came to pass: the world was tainted by the filthy hands of the humans," he said. "Only after it was too late for restitution did they realize their fatal mistake, the mistake of generations of selfishness and sin. They lived a squalid existence, raping our mother of her resources, her precious gifts to us. They erected cities, tall and mighty, but they quickly became hubs for destitution, depravity, and strife. They could have lived as gods, working in union with the planet, traversing the stars, but instead they chose a cowardly existence, always thinking about themselves instead of what lay ahead."

"Then, the Dark Angel came to correct the balance, guided by a wise Being from the stars, Jenova. It was she who made a vessel of his body, commanding him to do her bidding. But his holy work was put to a stop by blind fools seeking glory and honor. And so, the cycle repeated itself, and humanity continued to carve its misery into the face of Gaia. But tonight, the holy one will be given a second chance to return, and carry out that which was set in motion two-hundred years before. By the piercing light of his sword, he will lead us all to paradise."

Seven red candles burned in a circle on the altar. In the middle of this, Bylet'h bent before a clay bowl, pouring fresh blood from a chalice into it. His long, waxen fingers took a mortar and pestle and ground up some herbs and pieces of cactus. He dumped the plant mixture into the bowl of blood and other unholy amalgamations. Lastly, he left the altar and approached the carcass of a large griffon hanging by a meat hook from the wall, its white wings bent at odd angles, its golden, once-regal beak cracked and bloody. He sliced off several feathers with a silver dagger, pale as moonlight, and added them to the mixture.

Several robed acolytes waited behind him, with Alexa standing betwixt them. Her hands were bound by ropes, her body clothed in a silvery gray robe, the color of the sky before a storm. She was breathing heavily, her eyes wide and frightened.

"Can you feel it?" he asked them, not turning around. "The nearness of the One-Winged Angel. The time is nearly upon us."

"Re...un...ion..." the Black Wings chanted, a dark prayer.

The mixture in the bowl began to smoke, a poisonous purple hue that filled the room with a harsh burning scent. "Bring her forward," he ordered.

They dragged Alexa toward him, who struggled in her bonds and refused to walk, her forehead a sheen of sweat. They lifted her easily and brought her to the altar. Bylet'h held the mixture beneath her chin, forcing her to inhale the acrid smoke. She held her breath at first, but her body's needs exceeded her willpower, and eventually she gasped for air. After a few seconds, he saw her body relax, her pupils dilate and the muscles in her face go slack. He set the bowl on the altar and bent over a very old piece of parchment with cryptic markings and runes.

Another acolyte drifted in a hurry into the room. "Master," it hissed. "The castle is under attack."

Bylet'h did not react. He continued reading, until the acolyte was forced to approach him cautiously, keeping a good distance between himself and the High Priest.

"Master," the acolyte repeated more urgently, wringing its hands.

"Have all forces defend the castle," Bylet'h ordered. "The ceremony must continue throughout the night. Keep them off the roof. Leave none alive."

The acolyte bowed and left. Bylet'h turned to Alexa, who watched the acolyte leave with wide, reflective eyes. Bylet'h pushed back his hood, revealing his scarred countenance, and smiled grimly.

"Re...un...ion..." the Black Wings continued chanting.

"Your people have come for you," he told her. "What a fitting end for them. They shall be the first to witness the rapture, the return of he who will remake the world in fire."

"Gale," Alexa murmured airily, seeing beyond the priest and the cold stone walls. "Won't you go and pick me some flowers from the church?"

"Take her to the roof," he ordered the two Black Wings. He seized the scroll from the altar and they followed him up a flight of winding stairs. Outside, the sun had begun to set. The day was swiftly approaching its end.

* * *

><p>Iris awoke moments later, bruised and shaken, but otherwise all right. The others leaned over her.<p>

"Shiva and Holy," Ten breathed. "What the hell happened, kid? You scared the shit out of us!"

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Something hit me! Aren't I bleeding?" She raised a hand to her head, but her fingers came away clean. No blood, no bump, nothing.

"You screamed something and the next thing we knew you were falling out of the sky," Amon told her. "I caught you right before you hit the ground, but it was still a nasty fall. You okay? Anything hurt?"

"N-no, I'm fine." She sat up, and they gave her space. She rubbed her temples and said, "I saw the castle. I know the way. Let's just keep going." She rose to her feet, unwilling to repeat to them what had happened in the tree tops.

"Hold on a moment," Kai said, putting out a hand to stop her. "You took quite a spill, don't you want to rest a bit?"

"I'm fine," she repeated in her firmest voice, pulling leaves out of her hair absentmindedly. "Now are you guys still with me or not?"

"We're with you," Amon said, and they followed her as she dashed into the brush. "I just don't know where you're going," he muttered under his breath.

* * *

><p>Deep within the bowels of Malkuth, in a nameless cell in the farthest reaches of the castle dungeon, the beast stirred to the rattle of chains that hung from the rafters. It raised its maw in the air, sniffing deeply. It smelled bloodshed and chaos. The scent spurred the beast to pace back and forth, craving the freedom it needed to kill. Once a month, they let it loose on the island to feed before capturing it again. Boats wouldn't go near that part of Mideel out of fear of it. Its unnerving cries could be heard for miles out over the ocean.<p>

The beast raised its snout and let loose a tremendous howl, the sound traveling throughout the castle and beyond. It rose on its hind legs and flexed its long, golden talons, its purple fur stained dark in the absence of light, its red mane of hair and great, black horns hiding much of its face.

There was something else in the air, too. Not close, not strong and maddening like the blood, but familiar all the same. One of its kind, perhaps? It was drawn to this scent as well, but more out of raw curiosity. The beast growled and returned to all four paws, long tail twisting, eyes watching the iron door to its freedom patiently. It would get out.

When there was blood to be spilled, it always found a way to it.


	19. Malkuth, Part II: Fragmentation

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 19: Malkuth, Part 2: Fragmentation

The body floated downstream, its white back exposed to the swiftly-darkening sky. It had come around the bend, so slowly and peacefully that Iris had mistaken it for a piece of driftwood. Only after they had all finished filling their canteens did they realize what it was. She couldn't tell whether it was male or female from its prone position. All she really saw were two things—the pink ribbon trailing out from the right arm, and the cloud of blood that left a red streak in the water. Her teal eyes followed the line of blood upstream. The body could have only come from one place.

Ten and Kai stood a little ways off, giving them a moment, emptying their canteens in the sand. Amon, after the shock of the dead Megami warrior left his nerves, lurched into the water up to his knees.

Iris looked up from emptying her own canteen. "What are you doing?"

He turned to look at her, his features grim, anguish in his voice. "Iris. We can't just let them float away…"

"We don't have time to bury them, either," she said, hoping her voice didn't convey how truly disturbed she felt. She couldn't bear to look at the corpse, so she focused on him. "Come out of the water."

He ignored her and went a few paces forward. Now the eerie, still waters of the Charsis encircled his waist. Iris didn't know if anything dangerous swam in those murky depths, but she didn't intend on finding out.

"Please, Amon," she said. Damn him…she hadn't been expecting such a reaction from him, of all people, who had lost his arm for _their_ 'tradition' and been banished. The shock of what she was seeing had left her emotionless, except for the hardening lump in her throat. That was someone from Solstice floating there, dead. They would never return to their family. They would never again eat their favorite food, or kiss their lover's lips, or laugh at their best friend's stupid jokes. She couldn't take such thoughts. She repressed them, saving them for later when this terrible day was over.

Amon reached for the body and grabbed a handful of the victim's shirt, pulling them close. Very methodically, he cut loose the ribbon from the warrior's arm, raised the ribbon to chest height, and said, "Wings of the Goddess carry you," before he let the body go. It continued to float down the river, and he had to take whatever solace he could with the ribbon clenched in his human hand. He trudged out of the river and presented the wet, pink strand to Iris.

She hesitated. "Why me?"

"Once, you tied a ribbon around my arm in the grasslands, as a reminder of home. Remember?" He thrust the ribbon forward. When she nodded, but still didn't take it, he added, "A part of this person deserves to go home, too. Just take it."

She grasped the symbol of their clan gingerly, tucking it into her jacket pocket. Ten and Kai shuffled, waiting on her and Amon. "Let's go," she said at last, placing one hand on his good shoulder. He brought his hand up and removed hers, squeezing her fingers gently. She pulled him forward as if she were leading a child. Later on, she would remember how time slowed down in that moment, when their hands were touching. How Amon's eyes burned with sadness and anger, how the river water captured their reflections, the sky, and the trees. He remained still for a second, then seemed to come to terms with something and let go of her hand. Kai and Ten had gone up the river a few yards, keeping watch, and they waited for them to catch up before setting out again. Iris didn't have to say anything, they all knew there were to be no more delays.

It was another three miles upriver before they heard human shouts and screams of pain. The river rounded, carving a small canyon that had formed a long shelf of cliffs, and on the other side, built into the face of a knife-shaped outcropping of rock, was Malkuth. It was even bigger than Iris imagined. Standing in its shadow, the red-tinted windows glowing like so many demonic eyes in the twilight, she saw it not as a mere castle, but as a bastion of evil. A great stairwell, carved from the rock face, wound up to a wicked assemblage of spiked battlements, turrets, and wide, spiraling towers. The castle's drawbridge had been lowered, the iron bars of the portcullis bent inward from some sort of explosion. In the red windows, they saw innumerable flashes of colorful light, and heard the cries of a battle going on inside.

Iris spotted two figures crumpled on the stone steps, one dressed in white, and the other…she inhaled a sharp breath and ran, but out of the trees came three Black Wings. They blocked her path and raised their hands, shooting a volley of spectral fire.

"Down!" Kai barked, and Iris dropped to her knees instantly. There was a harsh _snap-crack!_ as a sheet of ice flew above her and collided with the flames. It wasn't enough. Several fireballs exploded the ground like cannon fire, sending up fountains of dirt. The dust cleared, and Iris crouched in a field of craters, stunned, but otherwise fine. It would take more than a few projectiles to hit her.

"Bastards!" Ten ran forward, his hand flashing gold. A shelf of Earth sprung beneath his feet, launching him at the Black Wings. Another chunk of rock lifted, he sailed forward on it and jumped off at the last second, sending the boulder crashing at the Black Wings. The Black Wings divided to avoid the falling rock, just as Amon cast Fire at them. Kai took careful aim and cast Ice again. A jet of ice and a fireball struck one of their foes, and it screeched and flailed like a wounded carrion bird before bursting into ashes.

Another wraith swooped at Iris, descending on her from the air. She aimed and prepared to cast Lightning, but her vision was growing blurry—it felt almost like when they had drugged her at Zenith. She reached in her belt for an ether potion, uncorked the bottle, and tossed a burning liquid down her throat. Instantly, her thoughts became lucid, the world became sharper and vivid. She thrust her right fist forward. Lightning flew from her fingertips, streaking through the air, where it struck the Black Wing dead-on. It swerved violently and crashed, its body consumed in oily smoke.

_They may avoid physical attacks like the wind,_ she thought, with a bittersweet smirk on her face, _but magic seems to tear right through them…if only we'd been prepared at Solstice._

A noise tore her from her brief thoughts. Ten cried out as fire seared his left arm. The third wraith unleashed a relentless barrage of fireballs at Ten, who was using Earth to bring forth sheets of hardened rock as a shield, but with each blast he was growing weaker, his movement sloppier. Kai, Amon, and Iris all charged the Black Wing as one, but it did not back down as the monster in the jungle had. Instead, the wraith looped to avoid their magic and cast a crescent-shaped wave of crimson fire in their direction, this one bigger than all the rest.

Heat boiled the air, so intense Iris thought her face would sear off. Kai cast Ice again, forming a half-dome of protection, but the fire ate through her attack. It flew over and around them, scorching their flesh, setting their clothes aflame. Kai collapsed, moaning, her clothes smoking, and Amon kneeled to one leg, clutching the left side of his face, which was blistering red. Iris had been bowled over by the force. She tried to breathe, but her windpipe had swollen shut. Her eyes watered. She panicked, fighting for air, clawing at her throat. In her thrashing, she saw a glint of heavenly teal…

_Are you going to let it end like this, Iris? At the foot of destiny…_said a woman's voice.

"NO!" Ten cried, sent into a fury at the sight of his wounded friends. His magical energy spent, he charged the Black Wing with his daggers drawn, but a whirlwind of flames threw him off his feet and onto the dirt next to them.

"Infidels," the wraith hissed as it descended on them, dark robes undulating in the wind. Its hands were raised, palms upward, the hellish red fire dancing above them. "How does the holy fire of the One-Winged Angel feel? Just a small taste of what is in store…but you will not live to see His glorious arrival."

The world wavered, as if in a giant heat wave. "Why…why are you doing this?" Iris croaked. She needed a few more seconds…enough time to concentrate, to let the energy coil. It was so hard to think through the pain and the fatigue.

"The world must burn," the Black Wing answered, its eyes two embers of pitiless light. "The Scion is the key. She will open the door for Him to pass through. The reunion…"

As the Black Wing gave its death speech, Iris raised her fist to her heart and focused with all her might. She took a separate materia from her pocket, one she hadn't equipped because she hadn't quite learned how to use it, and clutched both to her chest.

_Please work, _she prayed. _If not for me, then for them…_

The Cure spell burst from her clenched hands, bathing her and her friends in the healing light. Waves of relief washed over her. Soothing cold spread across her wounds as new skin grew over each burn mark. Red patches flaked off of Amon's face, revealing new, perfect skin underneath. Kai's body twitched, and she stood shakily to her feet. Ten gulped his ether and sprang onto his boots, standing woozily before preparing another spell.

"What?" the Black Wing croaked, and Iris smiled at its astonishment. The flames it held sparked and blazed brighter, fiercer with the thing's anger. It hesitated for a moment, then landed, too close for comfort. "Ah yes, All materia…I should have known. No matter. You will die first." Its fireball rocketed towards her. She spun out of the trajectory path, shooting forked lightning on the return. The Black Wing summoned a shield, which burst as the lightning bolt struck, throwing it to the ground. It was wounded, but not dead. The wraith hissed in rage and wove speedily for the jungle, only to meet a wall of solid earth.

"Aw hell no!" Ten said through clenched teeth. "We jus' gettin' started!"

The wraith's eyes narrowed. It spun and fled the other way, only to meet Amon's fireball. The blast licked its side, and it screeched in pain and fury, charging Amon directly, fire leaping from its fingertips. Amon shielded his face for the blow, but Kai dove in front of him. In a flash of blue, a cloud evaporated into mist as it ate up the deadly flames.

"Amon! Like we practiced!" Kai shouted, and Amon took aim at the Black Wing with her. Twin fireballs slammed into the wraith from either side, and it had time for one last shriek of surprise before it exploded in a star of flame. Pieces of it rained down, burning in oily piles. The air hummed with strange electricity from the magic. Kai turned to Amon and helped him on his feet. He nodded gratefully to her, rubbing the side of his face. They turned to see Ten running after Iris, who was charging at the stairs full-speed.

"Damn," Kai said, huffing. "Don't even have time…to catch our breath."

"After her," Amon grunted, and they ran.

"Iris, wait!" Ten puffed, climbing the stairs as fast as he could, clutching his side. She had bounded ahead of them all by dozens of feet, climbing faster and faster, her long legs motoring…She passed the body of a fallen Megami warrior, the face burnt so badly she didn't recognize them. Another hundred steps or so, near the mouth of the castle, she came across the second body she had spotted below. Her fears came true in an instant. Master Kaito lay across the giant step, his cape shredded and twisted behind him. Iris knelt to check his pulse, but he coughed, rivulets of blood spilling from the corners of his mouth. She dropped to her knees, leaning over him.

"Master…" Her shoulders shook with a suppressed sob. Master Kaito's eyes opened, glassy and clouded blue. They kindled with recognition at the girl leaning over him. His brown hair was swept back, his bloodied headband hanging off his forehead.

"I saw…the fight down there…" he rasped, and coughed again. Iris stared numbly. What could she do? His entire torso was charred and blackened, with angry red strips lashed across his arms and chest. Did she have enough energy left for such a feat? She held her wrist with Cure over his ruined torso. With what must have been the last of his strength, Kaito caught her wrist (his grip still like iron) and lowered it to her side.

"That's beyond me now, girl," he said, and closed his eyes briefly, wincing. His chest barely rose and fell, and with each ragged breath he drew, his entire body quivered with the ache of it.

"Please," Iris begged, her throat tightening. "My mother…where is she?"

"Up there. The rooftop." Kaito held onto her hand tightly. He reached up with his other one. With deadened fingers, he clumsily pulled the pink ribbon from Iris's open pocket. "You've…earned this…"

Dutifully, Iris took the ribbon of the fallen warrior and tied it around her arm. She didn't feel as though she deserved it at all, but she kept her mouth shut. She clasped his hand in both of hers. It felt cold and clammy. Could he see the fear in her eyes? How could she possibly go into the depths of that castle and rescue her mother, when he had failed? How could any of this have happened to the warriors of the Goddess Clan? They were supposed to be unbeatable…and now, reduced to dying on the steps of a filthy castle.

"Master Ka-, Uncle…I'm so sorry." She bowed her head. If only she'd gotten there earlier. Tears welled in her eyes. "For everything. I failed you again."

"No," he wheezed, his voice growing weaker by the second. "Forgive…me…Iris. Was…wrong…to judge you so. You have…great inner strength. Never forget…that." His lungs rattled as he drew breath. "The others…going after your mother. Hurry and find them, you'll have…a greater chance."

"Uncle…" she murmured, her voice wavering. "Stay with me. There's still so much more I need to learn."

"And…you will." A rattling breath hissed through his burned lips. His eyes went out of focus. "Now…go."He exhaled the word, little more than a puff of air through his vocal chords. His gaze trained on the sky as his grip went lax in Iris's hands. Then he no longer drew breath and lay still. She raised her uncle's hand to her lips, kissed it, and set it down at his side. The others had arrived, and Amon knelt by her, his mouth a thin line of grief. Taking the rest of the man's cape, he laid it across the body like a blanket.

"Master," he said, raising his face to the sky. "Journey well."

Ten bowed his head, his dreadlocks hanging in his face. Kai kept her eyes trained on the castle. Iris sniffed and stood up, gazing at the rooftop. She couldn't see what was up there from this angle. It didn't matter what else. Her mother was there.

"Iris, I'm sorry," Amon started, but she shook her head, blinking away the tears that wanted so desperately to fall.

"Later. No time. The roof! HURRY!" she gasped. Her boots thudded against the stone rapidly as she ascended the rest of the stairs, the others trailing after her. As they tore across the threshold into the castle, another chilling howl erupted, the same they'd heard earlier. Once again the hairs on the back of Iris's neck stood up. The interior of the castle was dark, lit only by grisly bone chandeliers giving off a morbid red light. They ran down a long hallway and banked right, where a group of four Megami warriors was engaged in combat with five Black Wings. Instead of materia, they threw items from pouches on their sides.

One of them threw what Iris thought was a throwing star, but as it exploded in a ball of fire, she realized it was a Fire Fang—a condensed spell in the form of a tiger's tooth. The items may have only had one lifespan, but they seemed to be getting the job done. One by one, the warriors defeated the wraiths. A man in his early-twenties, with brown hair and torn sleeves, was positioned towards the back. She vaguely recalled his name, Gendai. He'd been a few years ahead of her, which was why she hadn't recognized him at first. He was the first to spot them, and his jaw nearly dropped.

"Iris. Amon," he greeted, adjusting the pouch tied to his hip. He shifted awkwardly and said "Glad to see you're all right."

"Yeah, thanks," Iris replied, biting her tongue. She wanted to curse them for following Kaito's orders, for not bothering to find her and inform her of their plans to attack Malkuth, but she knew just how harsh her late master could be to those who went against his word. Though he had forgiven her, she felt the old wounds in her heart flare. Judging by Amon's rigid jaw, she knew he was thinking the same.

"Er, hello? People?" Kai asked, attempting to interrupt the steely silence between the two groups. Another mighty howl, this time closer, had them all jump.

"All right, what the fuck is that?" Ten swore, his eyes wide. The Megami warriors shook their heads. Gendai said,

"It is the beast. They have it contained in the dungeon. When we attacked, it woke up and started making that terrible noise."

The creature bayed again. The castle walls shook, but Iris couldn't tell if it was from the fighting or the beast.

"Are you sure it's contained?" she asked doubtfully.

"Clearly it is, because it hasn't attacked us yet," Gendai said.

"I wouldn't know, now, would I? I just got here."

Gendai's shoulders sagged. He offered her a guilty look and said, "Sorry."

Iris shook her head. _Sorry_ didn't cover anywhere near enough of what she'd been through. But the crestfallen looks on the warriors' faces, knowing their master had been slain, would not let the words past her throat. Accusations wouldn't improve their morale. She managed a huff and said, "Unbelievable. So, which way to the roof?"

A girl with blonde hair in a braid spoke. She was younger, and Iris didn't recognize her. Her eyes looked red and puffy, and she had a nasty burn on her left arm. "We don't know the way," she answered.

"Shit," Amon swore, scoffing. Ahead of them, the hallway split into two directions. Judging by the commotion and flashes, there were Black Wings to contend with either way.

"How many of you came?" Iris asked the warriors. And if they were all here, who was protecting Solstice from the Cetra, and from Zenith? She didn't have time to ask…

"There were thirty of us," said a young man with dark skin and blue-black hair fastened in a thin ponytail down his back. "But now that the others, and Kaito…" his voice broke off, and Gendai filled in for him.

"Twenty-two strong, at last count," he said. A strangled human cry down the hallway made him wince as that number went down by at least one. "We split up into two groups to take both sides of the castle. I don't know how far we've gotten…we were held up by a surprise attack." He wiped blood off his cheek with the back of his hand to disguise his sorrow, but Iris wasn't fooled. It was something she'd done before.

"All right," she said, in her best commanding voice. It felt strange to be the leader, like sleeping in a stranger's bed. "This is how it's going to work. All of you, take the left passage. Join up with the closest band of warriors you can find. Don't split up! Keep going until you get to the roof."

Ten gave her an uncertain look. "What about you?"

"I'm going to find my own way to the rooftop," she said. She would move faster on her own, relying on stealth rather than attacking. She didn't want to separate from her friends, and knew it was probably a bad move, but her instincts told her to get to the roof now, and they would only slow her down…

Amon cut his hand through the air. "That's a terrible idea! You'd be vulnerable to attack."

"He's right," Gendai said. "There's greater safety in numbers." The others nodded their agreement.

"I have to do this," she answered firmly, turning to Amon. He stared into her eyes, and that was all the convincing he needed.

"Okay," he said. "We'll take care of the Black Wings. You find your mother." Before she could react, he drew her in close and hugged her briefly, releasing her a moment later. She took the Cure and All materia off her wrist and handed them to him.

"You keep this," she said. He tried to hand it back to her, but she pushed his hand away and said to the rest of her friends, "Good bye and good luck. And…" she swallowed. Now would have been the time for a motivating speech, but she wasn't that kind of leader. She wasn't a leader at all. She was just a girl desperate to rescue her mother. "Thank you all for your help."

"Take care of yourself," Ten said. "That's an order."

Kai took a length of rope from her belt and tossed it to Iris. On one end of the rope was a grappling hook. "Here. You'll probably need this."

Iris attached the rope to a clip on her belt. She turned to Gendai. "Can you go on?"

"Of course. We've got a score to settle," Gendai said, cracking his knuckles and offering her a grimace of a smile. Iris smirked and took off down the hallway, turning right and vanishing from their sight.

"You heard her!" Amon said to the warriors as he watched Iris go. It was strange working with them, but he felt a little more confident with Kai and Ten by his side. Yet his Iris's absence weighed heavily on him. "Let's find the others."

"Let's kick some ass!" a young warrior yelled, pumping his fist.

"Show them the full power of the Goddess Clan!" Gendai hollered. The others pumped their fists and shouted old battle cries Amon had once believed he'd never hear again.

* * *

><p>Iris bolted down the hall she had chosen. The deeper into Malkuth she went, the more she felt as though she was straying through one of her dreams. The same endless wooden doors, chandeliers casting angry red light, the grave-like black walls, and the creeping shadows that seemed to shift with every turn. After several minutes of running through the labyrinthine halls, the creeping hand of doubt seized her. Had she chosen the wrong way? But why did it feel like this was the right direction…surely her instincts had led her astray.<p>

She gritted her teeth and prepared to turn back, when she heard the telltale rustling of robes and saw the glow of spectral fire back the way she had come. She ran to the nearest door and tried the handle. She was able to push it open, but met nothing but darkness on the other side. The cool air that wafted up told her she was going down, not up.

_Fuck!_ she thought. _I'm really screwed now._ But she had come this far. It would be folly to turn around. She groped for the wall, and her fingers touched smooth stone. She brought her foot out and gingerly located the edge of a step, then the one below it. Making sure the door was closed behind her, she crept down the stairs as quietly as she could. The air went from chilly to freezing in a few seconds, and she wished she could use a quick Fire spell to warm things.

Eventually the stairs flattened into a walkway. The air smelled rank, of mold and mildew and staleness. She heard something farther down the corridor, a metallic clinking noise, the tinkering of chains. Water dripped from multiple places. It hit her then—she'd found the castle dungeon. A second after her realization, she heard a rumble deep within the lungs of some feral beast. The noise was close. Fear froze her in place.

_Oh shit,_ she thought, panic speeding up her heartbeat. _Oh shit oh shit…just turn around. Maybe it hasn't seen you yet. Can it see in the dark? Oh shit…_

She stood perfectly still, her ears and eyes straining for signs of movement, anything. Yes, she definitely heard scraping, and heavy, ragged breathing. Slowly, she raised her hand, fingers splayed, and reached forward tentatively. She brushed a set of iron bars. And beyond the iron bar...hot breath on her fingertips. She withdrew her hand as though she'd been stung, biting her lip to keep from making noise. The thing snorted and growled, a reverberating warning that sounded like ten wolves growling in unison. Then, just beyond the bars, she saw them—a pair of eyes, two feral orbs reflecting a red light.

_Red light? But that means-_ Iris thought, then ducked as a fireball exploded above her head. She shouted in surprise, crouching low to the ground, but her shout was drowned out. The beast roared this time, so close that she winced as her eardrums begged for mercy. The Black Wings swooped across the dungeon, six or seven in number, she couldn't count all the pairs of eyes. Her spine pressed against the iron bars as they raised their hands to deliver the killing blow. Something pounded against the gate, snarling, and she staggered. The first wave of Black Wings sent jets of flame in her direction, and a brass locking mechanism appeared as the light from the fire approached her.

Without thinking, she cast Fire on the lock and threw herself to the slippery floor. It exploded into shards, and there was a great cranking noise as the gate was raised. Iris narrowly missed the blasting path, but there was little room in the dungeons for her to move. The next attack would prove fatal. She brought her arms in front of her face to brace herself for the fire, but there was none. Above her elbow pads, she dared to open her eyes, and witnessed a streak of purple and red as a creature bounded out of the gate. It charged her enemies, its great black horns lowered, its long purple tail thrashing.

"Kill it now!" a Black Wing hissed. They hurled fireballs, seven or eight at once, but the beast opened its maw and fired a beam of fiendish energy that forced Iris to cover her eyes. The Black Wings shrieked, releasing bursts of pressure as they exploded into flame. Iris lowered her arms. The beast ambled down the corridor and took to the stairs, disappearing out of sight. She waited, but it did not return to kill her. After a minute or two, she made the unsteady walk back to the stairs and ascended them to the next floor.

The beast left a wake of destruction, flipping over what few pieces of furniture and memorabilia there had been in the hallway, the thin gray carpet torn to shreds. She ducked in a door that had been splintered open. The fetid stench of dead flesh filled her nostrils. In the poor lighting, she saw the shapes of hundreds of animal carcasses hung from the ceiling, impaled on hooks, but beyond them was a row of stained glass windows. She wove her way through the carcasses, ignoring the marble eyes that stared at her from the upside-down bodies, and shoved her fist through the closest window. The glass shattered satisfactorily enough, and she popped her head out into the cool night air, inhaling a fresh breath.

Though she was on the lower levels, that part of the castle protruded over the cliff, and so she was still impossibly high up. Above her, a gargoyle scowled with its fanged mouth wide open. She hooked an arm across its neck and swung herself up and onto the ridge above the window. Balancing there, she undid the rope from her belt, and tossed the grappling hook as far as she could throw (which was a considerable distance, but a bad angle). The hook slipped off the balcony above her and fell, but she repeated the process, tapping into her deepest reserves of patience, and finally the hook found purchase.

She scaled the castle wall, her old lessons from her days of mountain climbing with her father coming back to her. She pulled herself up onto the ledge of the next level and wound the rope, then smashed another window. Inside, directly to her right, was what she had been searching for—stairs, leading up towards the roof. No sooner had she set foot in the stairwell did the air fill with a strange, sonorous chanting.

_They're beginning. Whatever it is they're going to do, they've started,_ she thought, and her feet flew up the stairs. Up and up she went, round and round, until she reached the topmost window of the tower. She put her elbow through it and leapt like a cat onto the battlements, which overlooked the full span of the enormous roof, as large as a sports stadium.

There, about fifty feet below her, she spotted a raised platform where a stone altar had been placed, surrounded by pits of burning coal that sent pillars of smoke into the sky. Lying on the altar, lit by torches and the full moon that shone above, was a pale figure, dressed in only a white loincloth. A whole mass of Black Wings had gathered before this grisly sight, covering the rooftop in a collected shadow and chanting their strange prayer.

_Iracundus __angelus__,__  
>Devorare nos in ignis vestri,<br>Absorbeat mundi in umbra,  
>Gregibus esse mundati,<br>Mundi denuo ardet odio_

_Vindice angelus,_  
><em>Mundus laesi te,<em>  
><em>Capti in aeternum,<em>  
><em>Nos dimittere nunc,<em>  
><em>Ducere humanitas patriam,<em>  
><em>misericors carnifex<em>

Standing in the very center of the platform was the leader of the Black Wings. She saw his depthless eyes, his open mouth. He was chanting something, both hands in the air. Clutched in his right hand was a very old piece of rolled up parchment, and he wore a dagger on his belt. Iris didn't understand. Was he going to kill whoever that was on the stone bed? She was too far away, and even with her Mako-enhanced vision, she couldn't make out any features other than light hair and skin. Not her mother, thank the gods. She ran along the battlements, heading closer to the platform and keeping low. The leader's voice boomed over the chants of the others.

"My fellow remnants," the man projected his voice like thunder. "Tonight, we take part in a reunion, two-hundred years in the making. For too long have we suffered in waiting! Now, we shall be rewarded for our dedication. The One-Winged Angel arrives tonight!"

"Re…un…ion…" the crowd echoed. Iris pumped her legs faster. Where was her mother? Her eyes scanned the crowd over and over, but all she saw was a sea of black, smattered with red stars. As she got closer, she could see beyond the platform. Where another wall should have been, the floor dropped suddenly, and beyond the castle, she saw a shining lake of neon teal. The site of the Mako flood…a portal to the Lifestream. Was something going to come out of there?

"Yes," he hissed. "I, Bylet'h, was once stricken with stigma, like each of you. For many years, I wondered why I alone had been cursed, never to belong, while the rest of the world lived in lavish decadence—disguising the stench of its decay with futile attempts to rebuild what our Lord and Master sought to destroy. Other came before me, but their attempts to revive our Lord had failed, for they put their trust in an unstable vessel. Only when I had walked the darkest, bloodiest of paths did I discover the truth, and thus, He chose me to be your leader. You were called to me, oh lost children, called to His voice, His will, His guardian! With whom shall you reunite?"

"Sephiroth." The crowd sang in their dark chant. "Re…un…ion."

_They're all insane, _Iris thought, realizing who it was on the altar. It was impossible…no one could bring back the dead, could they? _Sephiroth will never return. Not while I'm alive. Not if I can stop it…_

Bylet'h threw his head back to the night sky, where the full moon glowed like a beacon between the clouds. He laughed, roaring, "And I shall give Him to you! Tonight, let His judgment pass on this failed experiment called humanity. But first, the gate must be opened!" He brandished the scroll. "As Heaven's Ultimatum commands, the key shall be forged in blood. Bring the sacrifice!"

Iris's breath froze in her lungs, and her boots skidded to a halt. There below her, by only fifty feet or so, but what felt like an eternity away, was her mother, being led by two Black Wings. Her hands were not bound, and she appeared to be walking freely, dressed in a long gown the color of mist in October. How could she walk so passively among them? Why didn't she fight them? They placed her in front of the stone bed, facing the mass. As Iris closed the distance, an explosion rippled the air, followed by the crackling of some magical weapon.

The Megami warriors rushed onto the roof, breaking up the chant. Kai, Amon, Ten, and Gendai led the charge, firing their materia and hurling magical weapons.

"Do not let them interfere!" Bylet'h roared. "Kill them all!"

The dark mass broke apart into a hundred pieces, and the castle roof was alight with red flame as the Black Wings retaliated. Amongst the chaos, without faltering, Bylet'h walked over to her mother, who stood perfectly still with her head bowed, as if in prayer. He pressed a waxen hand to her forehead, then approached the body and did the same to it, and the body pulsed with an unearthly light. The Mako lake below the castle let loose a dissonant note, like a scream, and Iris had to grit her teeth to keep from screaming herself. Bylet'h tucked the scroll into his belt and paced, slowly, toward her mother's back. The dagger flashed in his hand, its point aimed with cruel intent.

Iris unclipped her grappling hook and spun it above her head, launching it at the top of the tower closest to the platform. She pulled the line tight and jumped. Her stomach stopped as all of time slowed down. Bylet'h placed a spidery hand on her mother's shoulder, steadying her. He brought the dagger up with his other hand, the tip poised above her heart. The tower anchoring Iris to her lifeline disintegrated, and the rope line went slack.

She fell. The dagger plunged. The beast from the dungeons emerged from the ruins of the tower, howling in the moonlight. It leapt onto the platform, and that was all Iris saw before she hit the ground. The ribs on her right side shattered. She felt something in her leg snap. The pain was real, so direct and raw, that for a moment she thought she would faint. When she didn't, she forced herself onto her good leg. Pushing through the storm of the battle, she broke through the confusion and limped onto the platform, just as hell came raining down from above.

Bylet'h raised his arms and released a terrified scream, more demonic than human. The dungeon beast bounded on top of him, impaling the Black Wing with its long, gilded claws. It lowered its lupine jaws around his head and bit down. The creature tossed the High Priest's body back and forth, making hungry ripping sounds. Distracted by its meal, Iris was able to slip past the beast. She stumbled in front of the altar, and looked down at her mother, who lay on her side as if she were sleeping. Except beneath her chest, matting her hair, a pool of blood had spread. There was her mother's life force, spilled out beyond the point of any help, magical or medical.

"Mother," Iris choked, and fell to her knees. The bone in her leg broke through the skin, but the pain was distant compared to this new and terrible hole that had been torn into her. She put her hands in her mother's tangle of dark hair and turned her head. Bylet'h's dagger had done its dirty work, leaving a clean slit above her heart. Her empty eyes met Iris's, still the same blue, but vacant. Devoid of the person she loved, devoid of warmth and happiness and strength. As the first of her tears spilled, dripping onto her mother's bloodstained dress, Aeris's voice rang in her mind.

_She was chosen. You know why. Her link to the Lifestream is strong. It calls through her, and she, in turn, called to them…_

"No, I don't know why!" Iris moaned. She pressed her face into her mother's collarbone, as she had done when something upset her as a child. Mother's skin was still warm, but the warmth was fading rapidly. There was no reason for this. First her mother was there, now she was gone. No reason at all. She sobbed, "It's not fair…it's not fair…" The words tumbled from her mouth without meaning. She wept, clinging to her mother's body, and no force on Gaia could remove her. She would remain there until she died of her own wounds. Nothing mattered anymore. She had failed everyone for the last time. Living with this mistake on her hands was too much.

"Iris!" someone screamed harshly. The sound came from far away, from another world.

_Not fair…why her? Why mom?_

"Iris!"

She raised her eyes slightly, more out of reaction than curiosity. Before she could turn her head, something locked her eyes into place like a magnet. Her heart thudded in her throat. On the altar was the man she had seen in the cryochamber at Zenith. Only then, he had been sleeping...and now he was awake and sitting up, looking at her. His silver hair glistened, his skin glowed in the moonlight. His features were almost too beautiful for words. Teal eyes, of a brighter blue-green than her own, bore into her like icicles. Beautiful and evil, a killing angel.

"Iris, get away from him!" Amon screamed from behind her. She turned around, and saw him dodging the last of the Black Wings as more Goddess warriors engaged them in battle. No one had noticed the silver-haired man that had sat up, who had only been dead moments ago, who was now rising to his feet…

Iris clenched her fists. Anger drenched her insides, and grief lit the match. This was what her mother had died for? This was the Black Wings' Armageddon, their vengeful angel? This was the terrible Sephiroth, this thing that had come from the lab? She set her jaw and got up, pain stabbing at her insides as if she'd been filled with glass. She took a step forward and gave a small whimper.

Sephiroth regarded the girl before him with slight disappointment. He had been hoping for a more worthy opponent for his awakening, not some broken whelp. The girl cried out as she took another step, the compound fracture in her leg leaking fresh blood. And from the looks of it, broken ribs as well. How disappointing indeed. He spread his arms, beckoning her.

_Come_, his expression read. _Come and be the first to die, girl. Let me put you out of your misery. _The girl shot him an insolent glare and broke into a run. The dark angel's face turned exultant, his eyes smoldering beneath his silver brow. Ah, the foolishness of the hero. _Run, then._

And Iris did run, gaining speed with every step.

"Iris, no!" Amon's distressed cries fell on deaf ears. Sephiroth waited, not twitching a muscle as the girl arrived within arm's reach. His face transformed from victorious to one of pure wrath and shock as the girl leaped, seizing him around the waist. Realization dawned in his eyes, but it was too late.

_Let that be your mistake. I'm stronger than I look_, she thought.

Iris threw them both off the castle ledge. They fell in a deadly embrace, and her hold on him never broke as they hit the surface of the Mako lake and vanished.

* * *

><p>(Author's Note: OMG. You have no idea how long I've been wanting to write this chapter...needless to say, it's a pivotal moment in the story. And although we've lost someone, we now have two characters from FFVII on the scene (or perhaps only one?).<p>

Now I'm going to go to bed and get some long-sought-after sleep.)


	20. Emergence

(A/N: Thanks again to everyone for their support and feedback. Thank you thank you thank you. You guys are awesome, and I hope you will continue to read as Iris gets on with her journey. She has a long road ahead of her, as do her friends.

I'm still trying to update on a weekly basis, however I may have to shift into a lower gear as things get busier. I have a vacation coming up in a few weeks. I'm going to try and update a couple times before going on a short hiatus. Hope you all are enjoying your summer as much as I am. =] )

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><p>FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum<p>

Chapter 20: Emergence

President Mercer's eyes snapped open, his face shining with sweat. He rubbed his bare chest with one hand. _Damn Bylet'h, calling on me at an hour like this_. What did the psycho want now? After a few seconds, bracing for the pain from the rune burned into the flesh above his heart, he relaxed. Perhaps he'd only dreamed it—his heart being crushed like a grapefruit in a vice, then someone shoving his head between two iron plates and pulling the crank, compressing tighter and tighter. His sudden start hadn't woken the two women in bed with him. His eyes slid to the empty pill containers by the nightstand, accompanied by more than a few empty beer bottles. No, they wouldn't be waking up any time soon. The clock on the nightstand said it was 3:15 a.m.

He climbed out of bed stark naked and padded across his grand suite to the window that overlooked Rocket Town, pulling aside the shades. At that early hour, he didn't have to worry about anyone spotting him in an accidental case of voyeurism. Unlike Neo Midgar, which had amassed an unsightly proportion of slums, downtown dumps, and the ever-present scrap yard formed from the ruins of old Midgar (not to mention those gods-awful angel statues), Rocket Town was cleaner, better-organized, and the streets were wider. And Rocket Town was certainly more industrious, boasting the planet's best assembly factories, building everything from ships to microchips (he had to thank Cid Highwind for that one, who led quite the entrepreneurial life after retiring from flying). All the better, considering Neo Midgar was now, along with the upper half of the Eastern Continent, completely enveloped by the Cetra's barrier.

That great bubble over the Northern Continent, and now Neo Midgar, was readying to burst. When it did, there would be all-out war. He'd never thought of himself as a wartime president, but it didn't necessarily have a bad ring to it. President Mercer, the man who led Gaia to victory against the Cetra…no. The man who wielded the power of the _gods_ against the Cetra. Arrogant, but accurate.

_I'm in an awfully cheerful mood_, Mercer thought, and he was instantly suspicious. Despite having downed an entire bottle of a very old Fort Condor whiskey a few hours ago, he felt strangely elated. _Gods, I must be about to die. That's the only explanation._

He waited, staring out the window, for the heart attack or stroke that was sure to come. He knew he was a far cry from a hypochondriac, not when one drank as much as he did, which was to say, enough to knock a 1st Class SOLDIER on his ass (if there were any more around, as it were). And he was only in his mid-thirties. His fingers absentmindedly strayed to his chest again, rubbing as if he had a bad case of heartburn. _Ha, ha._

Something was different. He looked down, the moonlight illuminating his flat torso enough for him to see…and look up. Look down again.

_It can't be,_ he thought, his normally slack face animated with shock. The rune was gone, the enflamed scar of his entrapment to Bylet'h erased, not a trace remaining. That could have only meant one thing.

_So, the crazy bastard's dead. Hope he'll forgive me for skipping a eulogy. _He smirked at the nearly-full moon, inhaling deeply through his nostrils. So, this was what it felt like to be a free man, no longer a dog on a cult leader's leash. He savored the moment, having secretly known that this day would come. The only regret he had was not being able to do the deed himself. _If I ever meet whoever put the sick fuck out of his misery, I'll shake his hand and give him prime real estate in Costa del Sol._ He winced. That was, if Costa del Sol was still around. At the rate the Cetra's barrier was expanding, it would consume the world in less than a year. Or so his researchers told him—personally, he thought they were clueless as to what the Cetra were capable of, or how fast their civilization would consume his. That was precisely why they needed to be eliminated, and fast.

On the edge of town, the enormous metalworking factory had been converted to a high-security construction site. Large, black plumes of smoke pumped through two elongated chimneys (the plant ran on coal and steam, not Mako). Inside, Cuthbert's men were working night and day to construct perhaps the greatest weapon of all time, a monster of a device that would eradicate the Cetra from the face of Gaia. There came a knock at his door. He went over to his bureau, picked up the silver pistol resting in its holster, and walked over and grasped the door handle, but left it closed. "What?" he grunted.

"Apologies for the late intrusion, sir," came the deep, business-only voice of his personal attendant and bodyguard, Starger. "We've just received reports. Malkuth has been attacked. The Black Wings have been destroyed."

"Good. That's very good."

"Sir," Starger ventured. "I was under the impression that the Black Wings were our allies."

"Hardly. They were a disease on this planet, spreading lies about an afterlife which doesn't exist," Mercer spat. "End of story. But I know that's not the only reason you're here."

Starger cleared his throat. "No, sir. Nox has requested permission to visit Malkuth and the surrounding area. Says she's interested in trying to recover her specimens."

Of course. The woman was more possessive than a whore with a busy block. He knew better than to come between her and her work, and since it suited his efforts, he had few objections to her undertakings (with the exception of her work with Bylet'h, a necessary evil). The manipulative scientist would have fared better during Shinra's glory days, he reflected, working alongside Hojo to create those super soldiers she was so obsessed with. Well, he was glad he had her, even if he couldn't convince the ice-veined broad to fuck him.

"Very well," he said, rubbing his flattened dark hair with one hand, trailing it down to his jaw to scratch the shade of beard stubble there. "Arrange for her to meet with me in the morning. I'd like to take a trip there myself." One of the women moaned softly in her sleep. He glanced back at her, then turned to the door and said, "Oh, and send my wife some flowers, will you? She hates when I leave for long trips."

Mercer thought he detected an amused snort from his assistant. "Yes sir. Will that be all, sir?"

"You're dismissed." Footsteps as Starger left, which faded rapidly. The man had a quick, calculating step. In truth, everything about him was both of those qualities, which was something to be admired in a society of plodding morons. Mercer paused, then headed back to bed. The covers had been thrown to the floor in a heap, and he made no effort to gather them, flopping on the mattress instead. The two women had barely moved since he'd gotten up, sleeping like the dead.

_One could only be so lucky_, he thought, and lay there, his mind turning over and over, until the morning. The sun broke over the line of factory buildings, cranes, and landing platforms, shooting bolts of pain into his skull, and he slipped a flask out from underneath his pillow, taking a long drink. _All things aside_, he thought, looking sideways at the flask, _now_ _at least I only have one demon to contend with._

* * *

><p>The skies over Malkuth cleared in the course of an hour, and if one good thing could be said of that day, it was that the atmosphere didn't seem quite so suffocating. Malkuth's halls had emptied of the evil energy which had previously manifested within. Shortly after the fall of Bylet'h and Iris and Sephiroth's disappearance, the Megami warriors killed the last of the Black Wings and swept the castle, floor by floor, searching for the wounded and prisoners. No live prisoners were found, although they discovered human remains in several rooms, butchered beyond the point of recognition, and to unknown ends. Not to mention hundreds and hundreds of dead animals. The depravity and cruelty of the Sephiroth cult unfolded its evil pages before their eyes, until, filled with disgust and loathing, the warriors gathered in the clearing outside of the tomblike castle, unwilling and unable to speak of the horrors they had all seen.<p>

Also strapped of words, Amon sat by a calm fire, ignoring a smarting burn on his good shoulder and hunger pangs that were growing stronger by the hour. All around them, the wounded had been stretched out on large, flat palm leaves. Some of the able-bodied warriors had run into the jungle for emergency supplies, the others staying behind to stand guard and treat their wounded brethren. The situation was grim—of the twenty or so that had survived, eight were seriously injured, covered in burns, gashes, and drained of energy reserves. The numbers, Amon thought, may not have looked like much to people who were used to seeing soldiers killed by the hundreds or thousands, but with each lifelong-trained Goddesss warrior, a single death was a waste of hundreds of years of tradition and arcane knowledge.

_I'm thinking like one of the old timers back in Solstice_, he thought, and scowled. What would Iris have said…A complex web of pain, grief, and emotion sprang on him, and he reminded himself that Iris would say nothing. She was gone. He buried his face in his knees and closed his eyes, trying to drown out the sounds of the moaning wounded, the whimpers of the dying, until someone's heavy step tromped behind him.

"Amon," Ten said, his voice groggy with grief and fatigue. "You gotta snap outta it, man. We've got the wounded to deal with."

Amon's hand strayed to the Cure materia in his pocket, the one Iris had given him. He, Ten, and Kai had no energy left to perform even a simple Cure spell. They had drained their stores of ethers, so the only thing left was to rely on nature's remedies. But the jungle was proving more hostile than healing. He didn't know much about plant medicine, didn't think he'd be much of a help, and made no move to get up.

"The sooner we get out of this jungle, the better," Ten added, unable to find the words for what he really wanted to say. He couldn't think of any, so instead he placed something by Amon's feet and left. Several minutes ticked by before Amon couldn't take his own thoughts anymore and looked down. There sat a grubby roll of parchment, tied with a black length of string. He picked it up, unrolling it carefully, and what he saw contrasted sharply with the scroll's shabby outer appearance. Strange, scripted writing glowed, silvery-blue, and seemed to flow like lines of water across a map. The characters couldn't have been written in ink; they were too incandescent, as if the writer had used starlight, or liquid metal left to cool. He couldn't make sense of it.

He would have asked Kai, who seemed to have a decent grasp of history, but she had gone with the group that was searching for medicine. The ever-resourceful pirate apparently knew which plants worked best for healing, and which would poison you with one drop. Ten was helping bandage a young man's arm when Amon approached him.

"What's this?" he asked, holding up the scroll, which fluttered slightly. Ten cut the bandage with a knife and tied it off, and the young warrior thanked him and lay back on the palm fronds. A gritty, green paste had been spread across his forehead to stop the bleeding from a six-inch cut, but blood dripped here and there onto the waxy surface of the leaf.

"It's a scroll we found on the Black Wings leader. He had a death grip on it when we got to his body," Ten answered, rising from a crouch and wiping his hands on the outside of his coat. "We think he used it to…y'know. What he did to, to Alexa, rest in peace, and revive that scary lookin' freak."

"Sephiroth," Amon insisted. Ten sniffed and glanced off to the side for a moment.

"Not sayin' it wasn't, but how can we be sure it was really him? These guys were wackjobs. Who knows what kinda black magic they were messin' with."

"It was him." Amon's words carried a weight of finality that Ten was too exhausted to question. He could see the boy's face was strained with pain, more emotional than physical. He had to believe it was Sephiroth. That Iris's and Alexa's deaths meant something. As they each stared off in silence, a commotion near the castle broke them from their reveries. Gendai came jogging over to Amon, covered in dirt and a few small splotches of crimson, but otherwise fine. He squinted past Gendai to see two male warriors supporting a third man in the middle, grasping him by the arms and practically dragging his deadweight.

"Who is it? A prisoner?" Amon asked.

"You're not gonna believe this," Gendai said, shaking his head. Amon's expression said now was not the time for embellishment. The warrior brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes and said, pointing to the ragged man dressed in black and red rags, "That man claims to be Vincent Valentine."

The name had a timeless sense to it, the way ancient air inside a tomb smells when it hasn't been opened for thousands of years. Ten and Amon exchanged looks of doubt.

"Valentine went missing over a hundred years ago," Amon said. "No one could find him, not even Yuffie. He was presumed dead."

"So the story goes." Gendai nodded. That was known to anyone who cared to study the old heroes. Amon watched the warriors lay the man down on a fresh bed of palm leaves. His long, black hair was tangled, matted with leaves and filth, the tatters of a red cape hanging from his shoulders, and the black clothes underneath little more than strips of cloth. Between these strips, Amon could count some of the man's ribs, but for the most part he appeared unharmed, though he was ghastly pale. He wore a scratched brass gauntlet with claw fixtures on the fingertips, as well as gold-tinted spurs on the toes of his boots. Before any words could be exchanged, the man went limp into a deep sleep, one clawed hand draped across his midsection, a red bandana slipping down over one eye. Most astonishingly, his features appeared quite young, mid to late twenties at best. For someone who was hundreds of years old, he seemed to be in better condition than any of them.

"Alexander," Amon uttered the god's name in disbelief. "It's Vincent. He fits the description from our archives back ho-, er, back in Solstice."

One of the warriors who had carried Vincent stepped forward. "We found him in the jungle. It looked like he'd had a fight with some giant creature."

"The trees around him were splintered," the second warrior added. "with claw marks in the dirt. We think that huge beast we saw on the roof might have found him and dragged him off. We couldn't find any wounds, though. Not a scratch on him, actually."

Ten snorted derisively. "Didn't you boys take any history classes? Do you even know who this is?"

The two men shrugged. "We've got our brothers and sisters to look out for," one of them answered staunchly. "This one's fine." They walked off, and Amon thumbed the edge of his nose once.

"Nothing's changed," he muttered.

"So. That was the Galian Beast." Ten swore under his breath, kneeling down to check Vincent's pulse. It took Amon a second to recall that that was the name given to Vincent's first transformation, the great purple beast with the blood-red mane.

"He's got a pulse," Ten grunted, then stood up and took a few steps away, as if he had something contagious. "What kinda man lives that long? He don't look a day over twenty-five, but he must be at least three-hundred years old."

"I don't know. But we owe him our gratitude," Amon said. "He killed a lot of those fucking monsters, more than any of us. And I didn't see him attack anyone on our side."

"Shit, I 'spect he had more than a grudge against them for keepin' him locked up. That monster was PISSED. Wonder how long he was there for?"

"Maybe the entire time since he vanished." The thought sent an unpleasant shiver down Amon's spine.

"We'll find out when he wakes up, I guess," Ten said, with a 'that's that' sweep of his arms. "I jes' hope he doesn't go into rabid mode on our asses when that happens."

The distraction over, he fell into a solemn quiet. Amon went back to his seat to brood. He looked the scroll over again, then rolled it up and tucked it into his pocket. He didn't like having it there—what if the scroll was the reason Iris had been killed? The thought was too much, and he stood up abruptly and went to see what, if any help he could offer to the wounded. Tomorrow, if he could somehow find the strength, he would check the Mako lake for signs of Iris. A small, childish part of him had hope, that perhaps she'd survived the fall and was even now sitting at her own campfire, but he dismissed it as a pipe dream and swallowed bitterness that threatened to turn into tears.

That night was perhaps the worst of his life. They lost one warrior, who went raving with his eyes rolling up into his head, screaming about demons, his entire body giving off an intense heat from the awful burns he had sustained. Eventually, Ten and Amon were forced by sheer fatigue to sleep, though it was only a few hours at best. And now that the Black Wings had gone, the jungle seemed to come to life again, humming with the trills of insects and the twittering of strange birds. Amon did not dream, and when he awoke from his hard spot on the ground, he felt groggy and like someone had filled his muscles full of lead.

A red sun rose slowly, turning the air into a humid wall of sticky dew, evaporating the fog that had rolled in overnight. He, Ten, and the rest of the warriors reconvened around the remains of their campfire, chewing on roots and discussing plans to build stretchers and carry the wounded out of the jungle. As they took to the task, gathering steady branches to lay the framework, Amon checked on Vincent. The man had rolled over onto his side and was muttering in his sleep.

"Lucrecia…" he growled. The man's thin black eyebrows drew together, his brow creasing, and he murmured something he couldn't understand. Amon had no idea who Lucrecia was, but she seemed to have cast her haunt on Vincent. With nothing but Iris's face in the back of his head, he could sympathize. He brought a hand to his own temple, rubbing it dully, and walked away. Kai had returned sometime earlier in the night, and was now taking a well-earned rest break by the fire pit.

"Did you get some sleep?" she asked conversationally as he approached. Her eyes were a bit puffed and her hair disheveled, but her smile was like a breeze of cool mountain air in a humid environment.

Amon shook his head. "You?"

"Can't say I did." She massaged the nape of her neck with one hand and brought her head back, sighing. He made no reply, and she mercifully didn't press him to say anything. Instead, she said, "Gods, what I wouldn't give for my bunk. I s'pose Shou has set sail by now."

"I'd almost forgotten about him," Amon said bluntly. "Yeah, he's long gone. We'll have to find our own way off this _rock_." He kicked a pebble the size of a tangerine for emphasis. It flew high in the air and landed with a plop in the Charsis. He plopped down himself, next to Kai, and watched the ripples spread out across the river, the circles growing wider and wider, until they dissolved across the glassy surface. Short-lived, fading away forever, never to be seen again. He shut his eyes and felt his shoulders start to convulse. He felt the warmth from Kai's hand as she pressed it between his shoulder blades.

"I'm so sorry, Amon," she said at last. "I don't know what else to say." She felt his back go rigid, another silent sob shaking his bones, sorrow traveling down his nerves. She continued, choosing her words carefully, speaking as though she were reading from a page of a diary. "I...know you must think no one has felt the pain of loss as you do now. I lost my whole crew. People I've sat down to meals with one minute and entrusted with my life another. I've lost many over the years…when you live the pirate's code, you accept that death can come for you at any moment, and in a thousand forms."

"You chose that lifestyle," Amon said flatly, and under other circumstances, she might have been offended. "She didn't choose this. This…insanity." He flicked a hand at the black castle.

"I won't waste your time defending those who take to piracy. It's a treacherous…undertaking," Kai said. She removed her hand from his back. "But we're human, too. We develop close friendships, bonds…we-" she swallowed a dry lump in her throat, "-fall in love. And I can tell you, there's NO such thing as a fair death. It's always a blow. But you find a way to move on. You have to find a way, so their death won't be in vain."

He was still, and she knew her words had touched some part of him that wasn't numb with grief. The wind sifted through the trees, carrying the perfume of large, purple and red jungle flowers. It smelled like firewood and lavender. Firewood...a funeral pyre.

"We don't even have a body to bury," he said flatly, after a few minutes had passed.

"She fell into the Lifestream. She didn't have to journey far to meet her ancestors," Kai said, rubbing his back in slow, small circles, the way one might rub someone with motion sickness. She knew too much physical contact would only push him away. He was not the type of person to look to others for comfort. And truthfully, she admired his reserve. She had known too many men who took to sobbing like babies in the lap of a woman when they thought no one else was listening. And there were some men who kept everything inside, shoving down every negative emotion, every slight, until it came boiling up in a frothing rage and got the better of them in the form of a deadly bar fight or a throat slit over a card game.

Finally, Amon stood up. He brushed his dark hair out of his eyes, and went over to Ten, who knelt by the body of a warrior, gravely wounded. He was the worst of the bunch, with a deep slash to his abdomen that had left parts of his intestines showing. Someone had since covered the wound with a bandage to try and prevent infection. Kai watched Amon take out the Cure materia and kneel by Ten. Ten shook his head and told Amon to put the materia away, they were past that. Kai rose and joined them, and told Amon to place the materia on the victim's abdomen. The young man made no sound at the pressure on his wound, his soul hanging onto the world by a thread. His heartbeat was a feeble twitch beneath Ten's fingertips on his neck. In less than an hour, he would be dead.

"We shouldn't be doin' this," Ten said. "What if we drain our energy too fast and knock ourselves out?"

Amon took a deep breath and exhaled. "We have to try."

"Here. This is a technique few people know about," Kai told them. "But we can only do this once." She instructed them to place their hands on top of hers, which pressed the materia to his chest. "Okay. Now concentrate…be careful, don't go overboard, or you'll end up on a leaf next to him. Just…slip into this gently, like a warm bath."

They closed their eyes. Nothing happened at first. Then, their combined energy sent ribbons of healing light swirling around the victim. Fatigue and coldness flooded their bodies, left them breathing shallowly, but otherwise all right. Amon opened his eyes. Blood had rushed back into the young man's veins, bringing color into his face. He looked up at them, like someone who has been wandering in the woods, lost, who has finally found his way out.

* * *

><p>Shou walked along the white sand of the Mideel continent, turning a conch shell over in his hands, his monkey tail swaying from side to side. He looked back over his shoulder at The Chameleon with some trepidation, but continued onward, assuring himself that he had disabled the autopilot and had the ship, which seemed to possess a will of its own while its captain was gone, safely anchored close to shore. After the first twenty-four hours had gone by, he'd hesitated in the control room, but the decision had been quick and deliberate. He would not set sail. He would wait. His gut had told him to do so, even though his logical mind screamed at him for being stupid.<p>

_They've been captured, or worse,_he thought, turning the shell, which had an opalescent sheen. It had a dream-inducing effect, when one followed the curves of it. It was the sort of thing you would give to a girl, perhaps, if you were the romantic sort. Without much questioning, Shou continued to wander along the beach, convincing himself he was only passing the time, but something deeper whispered to him, telling him to keep going. And so he did.

Eventually the sand turned into coarse, dark rock slick with seaweed. Barefoot, he skillfully navigated the thin strips of volcanic stone, drawn to the crystal-blue tidal pools that had formed in the bigger holes. He was careful to avoid the deep ones, having heard stories from sailors about giant jellyfish and squid, as well as hybrid creatures from the days of Shinra that could switch magical elements at will.

Not wanting to wander out of sight of the ship, which was little more than a dot now on the horizon, he sat down on a large, dry portion of rock and hummed to himself. He looked back at the ship once more, then ahead at the shoreline, punched with larger tidal pools. Some of them were even generating steam. He followed the serpentine trail of one plume of steam back to its source, and gave a loud gasp of disbelief. He blinked his eyes once to be sure he wasn't seeing things.

A mermaid sunbathed on a rock, which was situated in the middle of the largest tidal pool he had seen yet. Only, he thought she was a mermaid, until he hopped a few rocks closer and saw that she was just a young woman. She lay on her stomach with her face turned to the side, her lower half still submerged in the water. She was naked, he realized, a slight flush creeping into his face. Both hands were out over her head, as though she had been reaching for something, but had given up and fallen asleep instead. Her long hair (wet, he couldn't tell what color) trailed behind her, and had an oddly spiky shape to it. No, he knew that hair…and he had an even harder time believing it was her than he had the mermaid.

Shou got a running start and leapt onto the rock. "Iris? Iris!" he called, shaking her shoulder delicately. The young woman's eyes slid open, revealing the same teal color as the water. Vibrant and neon. He looked more closely at the tidal pool. Beneath the surface, some forty or fifty feet down, the same unearthly color glowed where the earth cracked and Mako seeped through. Had she been poisoned?

"Iris, can you hear me?" She didn't move. He brought his hands together and concentrated, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing. A golden light emanated from the crown of his forehead, and he brought it in a deep bow against Iris's crown. The light jumped from his head to hers, and seeped into her skin. Her eyes shot open, she lifted herself onto her elbows and vomited water. Her mouth sucked in air in one vocal gasp. She let out a cry like an infant and wept, burying her face in her arms, her hair afloat in the water like seaweed. She clutched something in her right hand, but he couldn't make out what it was.

"It's all right. You're going to be all right." Shou rubbed her back and looked around, his tail flicking in thought. Where had she come from? And where were the others? And why were her clothes missing? He waited patiently for her to recover, helping pull her onto the rock. The sun restored some color to her skin, which was ivory white before. Her nakedness was hidden from him by the curve of her legs and her long hair, but he now thought of her as a patient, and whatever embarrassment he'd felt had left him.

"What's that in your hand?" He reached for it. Iris's placid face turned feral in a split second and she clutched the object to her chest. He raised both hands in a gesture of peace, and she relaxed. He sat nearby and waited. An hour passed, and he was able to get her to sit up. Her eyes were focused on some distant point, however, and he found her vacant expression unsettling. Tired of listening to nothing but waves crashing, he asked,

"Can you speak?"

Iris's lips opened, but no sound came out. She opened and closed her mouth, not unlike a fish, as she struggled with the notion of speech, but ultimately gave up and stared at the ground.

_Gods, please don't let her be Mako-wiped,_ Shou thought. He said, "You have to stand. I don't think I can carry you back to the ship, so you're going to have to try. Okay?"

She gave no sign that she heard him, but when he grabbed one of her arms and draped it across his shoulders, she slid one foot underneath her body and attempted to rise. Whatever had happened to her had made her incredibly weak. Yet she held onto whatever it was in her hand like she held her own life. The process was slow going, her body more rubber than skin and bone, but with patience and effort, he was able to get her on her feet. Then came the real problem—transporting her off that rock.

He didn't think swimming in that water was a good idea, but they had no choice. He helped her slide into the pool, going in with her, the water warm and brackish. Her old reflexes returning, Iris was able to flounder her feet a little and move her arms, but most of the burden was Shou's, who held her afloat while using his legs and one arm to move towards the edge. He got out first, then pulled her out after. She was able to stand again, but every so often she teetered dangerously and he had to catch her.

By the time they made it back to the Chameleon, Iris did little more than sway, unsteady on the white sand, and Shou ultimately left her on the shore, looking like a Jemnezmy with her blonde hair blowing in the wind and long pale legs, only minus the poisonous frogs. He swam back to her with a life buoy and brought her chest deep in the water, lowering a life buoy around her torso. From there he swam with her to the ship, and helped pull her up one foot of rope at a time. As he stood on the deck, panting from his exertions, Iris looked left and right with mild curiosity, apparently not recognizing where she was. He brought her some spare clothes, which consisted of a T-shirt and some loose-fitting cotton pants. By that time Iris was sitting on the deck in an unladylike fashion. Her expression was less empty, however, and more dreamy and curious.

"Here. These are clothes. Remember?" he goaded her gently and handed her the folded garments. She held out her hand, but when he dropped the clothes into her open palm, she let go and the pants and shirt fluttered onto her lap. Sighing, Shou yanked the shirt down over her head and tugged her considerable mass of hair through the hole. By the time he started working the pants up around her ankles, she reached down and helped him pull.

"Good!" He smiled encouragingly. This was worse than trying to get that old codger Chiron to listen to him. "Pull them up, just like that. No, don't stop there." He repressed an amused snort as she left the pants knee-height. "Keep going…there. Now you won't get fined for public nudity by the Mideel beach patrol."

Iris blinked at him and became preoccupied with a cloud scudding over the sun, her mouth drawn into a thin line. Shou brought her a slice of bread and a cup of water. She acted as though the bread didn't exist, but when he tilted the cup to her lips, she drank a few sips. After a few more minutes, insisting that she eat and holding the bread under her nose, Iris gave in and took a bite, and another, until she ripped it out of his hands and gobbled the rest so fast it was a miracle of Shiva she didn't choke.

"Well Iris," Shou declared, brushing crumbs off his own shirt, "I think it's high time we headed for port." He gazed off on the horizon for a moment and murmured curiously, mostly to himself, "Something told me to stay, and I guess whatever it was, it wanted me to find you. But we really should be leaving." As he turned to head below deck, a vice-like pressure encircled his wrist, and he jumped. Iris clutched him tightly, her hair hanging in her face, casting it in shadow. For a moment he feared she would attack him.

"What?" he asked, keeping his voice still. "What is it?"

Iris nodded toward the Charsis river, gesturing wildly. It was the most personality she had shown since he'd found her. Whatever she thought was important up the river, it had been strong enough to snap her out of her daze. The hand that clutched the object went to her lips as she pressed her knuckles against her mouth.

"Iris, they haven't come back," he tried to explain. "It's been more than a day…" She pointed again, nearly shaking him. "You want to go upriver? To Malkuth?"

She nodded fiercely. Shou's eyes widened.

"Are they still alive?"

Another nod, then a pause. She shrugged, her eyes went glassy, and she lay on her back on the deck, staring up the sky. Shou shook his head and walked away, biting his lip. To listen to her, after she had nearly drowned, and was most certainly suffering from Mako poisoning…it was madness. But he couldn't reject that desperate look in her eyes. If there was any chance of survivors, he had to be there to help them. The healer part of him simply wouldn't let that go.

He reprogrammed Ten's clever autopilot code, hacking it easily enough, and soon the ship's core hummed softly and propelled them on a course up the river. When the radar fed him positive readings, and when he made sure they weren't about to run aground or hit a rock, he went back to Iris on the deck. She was standing by the edge, staring out into the jungle. Shou thought he was treading softly, but she turned around when he was still a good distance away. Her bright blue eyes seemed to x-ray him, freezing him to the spot for a moment, before he remembered that she was his friend.

"We'll be there soon," he told her. "Much faster than taking the jungle."

He watched her face for signs of recognition, but she turned her head away, as impassive as she was before. "Gods," Shou murmured, shuddering. "What happened to you that you can't even speak?"

Iris raised her right hand and slowly opened her fingers. Resting in her palm was a ball the size of an eyeball, consisting of what Shou first took to be liquid silver, yet shaped into a perfect sphere. As he got closer, Iris's back stiffened, but he gave her an assuring smile and stopped. No, it wasn't liquid metal. Dark swirls fragmented by hoary shards spanned its smooth, keen surface. Looking at it made him feel chilly all over, like lying down on the doctor's metal slab in a freezing room.

"Where did you get this, Iris?" She looked at him, then back at the orb. He reached out and gently took it from her. She made no move to grab it back, only stood there with her hand out. He turned the orb over, admiring its metallic sheen.

_Silver materia?_

He wondered what would happen if he concentrated some of his magical energy into it. Just a little, only to see what its properties were. He guessed it emitted some kind of magnetism, perhaps something that transformed metallic properties (on a ship made of metal, he would have to be extra careful). He closed his eyes. Concentrated. A jolt of ice shot through his hand and the orb dropped to the ground. It landed with a _ping!_ and Iris stood there numbly as it rolled towards one of the drainage holes in the side of the deck.

He snatched a rag from a nearby pail and dove after the materia. He caught it in the towel before it could roll off the boat, wincing as he landed on his belly. His right hand tingled where the materia had—what? Shocked him? Frostbit him? Had this been hurting Iris the entire time?

She blinked, shambled over to him, and took the materia back. Showing no sign of pain or emotion whatsoever, she slipped it slowly into her pocket and went back to staring at the jungle.


	21. A Gate of Sleep

(A/N: So I had originally intended for this chapter and the next to be one, but split it up to avoid one monster of a chapter. The second half ended up being much longer than I'd wanted it to, but I think it will explain a lot! I hope you all enjoy. I couldn't resist putting in a Flo-Mo [Florence and the Machine] quote, the song reminded me of this chapter. )

* * *

><p>Chapter 21: A Gate of Sleep<p>

_Seems that I have been held, in some dreaming state  
>A tourist in the waking world, never quite awake<br>No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber  
>Until I realize that it was you who held me under<em>

_Felt it in my fist, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids_  
><em>Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs<em>

_No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone_  
><em>No more calling like a crone for a boy, for a body in the garden<em>  
><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love<em>  
><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love<em>  
><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong one<em>

_And I could hear the thunder and see the lightning crack_  
><em>All around the world was waking, I never could go back<em>  
><em>Cause all the walls of dreaming, they were torn wide open<em>  
><em>And finally it seemed that the spell was broken<em>

_And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open_  
><em>And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open<br>-_"Blinding," Florence and the Machine

The waters of the Mako lake shimmered against the shadows cast by the jungle, like aquarium glass in a dark room. The lake had engulfed the town of Mideel, but it had no name that Amon knew of. The people who had once occupied the town tried to rebuild it after the eruption, but the radiation levels were declared unsuitable to live in, and they forced off the island. Looking at it, one never would have guessed its true malignant nature. The lake was truly beautiful, one of the unknown wonders of the world. But as he stood on its shore, knowing any immersion in the water would likely irradiate and kill him, he, too, was filled with an emotional poison that ate away at his bones. His legs weakened, and his head swam. He looked up the great, gray cliff, and at the top of Malkuth, where Iris had plummeted off the edge in a death-hold with Sephiroth the night before. His eyes followed the trail of their descent, down to the crystalline, heavenly waters. The surface of the lake was as hard-looking and vibrant as a gem, yet transparent to the very bottom, where a cavernous, dark hole swallowed everything that entered. It was a long, long fall, and an even longer way to the bottom.

Ten, who had finished scouring his search area, stopped a few feet short of Amon and placed his hands on the sides of his trench coat. Ten gazed for a long while into the water, then said, with uncommon, reverent softness, "There's no sign of 'em. We can come back and look after we get the wounded out of here, if y'want. I'll stay for one more day, and then I'm going to Corel to be with my family."

"No," Amon said, struggling to keep his voice from cracking. "There's no point. They're both gone." He lifted his eyes to the castle ledge again and felt a sharp sting as his fingernails bit into the skin of his palm. He gestured to the gaping hole at the bottom of the lake. "It's obvious what happened to them. But what I really don't understand is where Alexa's body went. Nothing left to bury, no sign, not so much as a drop of blood…why?"

Ten shook his head in defeat and shrugged. The warriors had combed the roof, but no trace of Iris's mother had been found. It was as if her body had disappeared into thin air, if such a thing was possible. After all that had conspired in the last twenty-four hours, he supposed it was. It wasn't going to make breaking the news to Gale any easier. His wife, his daughter, his brother, all gone in the wink of an eye. No remains to give him, no closure. Amon brought both hands to his head and pressed, hard, inhaling deeply.

Ten seemed to know what he was thinking. "I'll be the one to tell Gale. It was my responsibility to protect Iris, and I let him down." His voice faltered towards the end and he brought a fist to his mouth, pretending to clear his throat.

"I want to be there, too." Amon turned his back to the lake, unable to bear the sight of it any longer. "He needs to know. How she fought to save Alexa, how far she came. How brave she was…"

Ten said, a little nervously, "Yeah Amon, sure. We'll make sure he knows. It'll be okay."

"You don't have to placate me, Ten. I'm not about to snap or anything," Amon said irritably.

"I ain't placating." He coughed once into his hand, and Amon thought he saw redness in his eyes. "I just don't know what to say, man. I feel lost."

"Me too."

"Let's get off this island." Ten shuddered, looking up at the empty black castle. "And never look back. This place is cursed."

Amon waved him along, and they headed towards the river, following its wide curve around the cliffs, the water reflecting the light of the sun. They arrived at camp, where the last of the gurneys were finished. Amon was more than ready to board the warrior's ship, which they had docked on the opposite end of the island, and put the Mideel continent behind him. But before they could leave, they had to take care of one more unpleasant task—the bodies. The dead, including Master Kaito, the warriors had placed on a tremendous wooden pyre in the center of their campsite. The earth was too soft and too shallow to bury anyone, and this was their next best option. Amon hated the idea of a grave on that island, anyway, especially at the foot of the dark fortress.

Time was growing ever-short for the wounded, and their healing herbs could only do so much. Gendai took a torch and offered a quick, heartfelt eulogy as the small crowd of warriors bowed their heads. Kai, Amon, and Ten stood amongst the Goddess warriors.

"Our fallen brethren," Gendai said somberly, holding the torch aloft. Despite his attitude earlier, Gendai turned out to be a decent orator, getting all the inflections and tones down right. "We gather before you now to send you to the afterlife, to return you to the ancient waters of our forefathers and foremothers. If you had not fought and perished alongside us, the world as we know it may have been destroyed. Know that your deaths were not in vain. Know that we are ever-grateful for your sacrifice. May your spirits sail in peace to the Lifestream. May your essence be sung all over Gaia, in the breath of the trees, the laughter of children, the trickle of the mountain springs. To this end, we release thee from thy mortal shells, and with this flame, we send thee on thy journey," he finished, in the traditional archaic speech of the Minerva worshippers and Aeris priests back home. He set the torch to the wood and stepped back as it caught instantly, transforming the pyre into a small mountain of golden flames fit for Phoenix.

Nothing was said of Iris, or Alexa, whom they had all agreed they would mourn later. They deserved a proper ceremony, and in these rushed circumstances, a mere mentioning during a pyre burning was far from closure. With no bodies to burn, Amon didn't want them saying a few words and shutting her out of his life for good. That he would not stand for, and neither did Ten or Kai.

_Besides, I'm not ready to say goodbye,_ he thought. The warriors said their final farewells, clasping the ribbons of the dead in their hands. The heat from the pyre grew too intense to stand near, and they turned their attention back to the wounded. The funeral was bitter, and short, but there was a job to be done. They had just enough hands to put two warriors to each gurney. All except one. Amon, Kai, and Ten went over to check on Vincent, and were startled to find him sitting up, arms propped on his knees, watching the flames lick higher on the pyre. His deep, dark eyes burned along with it. They stood before him, each at a loss for words, and a little wary. _Was it even safe to be around him?_ Amon wondered. _Perhaps he could transform at any moment…_

"I heard everything," Vincent uttered in a deep, scratchy voice from behind the crimson cape that partially concealed his face.

"Can you walk?" Kai asked. "I'm very sorry, but we're shorthanded here, as you can see."

Vincent chuckled darkly. "Well enough. I don't stay down for long. You have wounded, so don't concern yourselves with me—get them out of here alive. I'll be fine."

"You sure?" Amon glanced back at the others, who were forming a line to begin the march into the jungle.

"Positive."

"Well, at least take this." Ten offered him a canteen of water, but Vincent shook his head, his ink-black hair swaying.

"Keep it. I won't need it."

"Look, I don't want to be rude, but," Amon started, and knowing of no polite way to ask, he said, "are you really Vincent Valentine? THE Vincent Valentine?"

"Yes."

Kai and Ten inhaled sharply. Amon, who had known all along, just as he had known that was Sephiroth on the rooftop, did nothing. Instead, he said, "There's so much I want to ask you."

"That will have to wait," Vincent replied coldly, and lifted his chin in the direction of the others. "Now go. I have some things I need to meditate on."

They exchanged looks. Ten said, "If you get the chance, there's a pile of weapons at the foot of the stairs, things we found in the castle. We ain't usin' 'em any time soon and can't afford to carry 'em. But if you're planning on staying another night here…might be a good idea to give it a once-over."

Vincent nodded his thanks, and they took that as their dismissal. They headed back to the group and began to march into the jungle, single-file. A warrior in the front practically dropped the handles of his gurney, his partner cursing as he pointed, shouting, "Down the river! Look!"

"What now," Ten growled, and the three of them each gently set their gurney down and ran to the river's edge. Shaded by overhanging trees, a dark shape floated towards them in the water, growing larger by the second. Sunlight sparkled on orange camouflage-patterned paint. The three of them breathed simultaneous sighs of relief, then…

"My ship!" Kai cried exultantly, and took off at full speeds down the river. "Thank Typhoon!"

"It can't be," Ten said, looking wide-eyed at Amon. "I programmed-"

"He must've hacked it!" Amon interrupted in his excitement, a ghost of a grin appearing on his face. "Damn, couldn't have asked for a better time. Shou!" He called, running after the captain. Sure enough, standing near the prow of the ship, Shou waved to them briefly before ducking down below deck, where he guided the ship near the shore and extended the loading ramp from the ship's hull. He met Kai, Amon, and Ten halfway down the ramp, where Kai swept him into an airtight hug.

"You scoundrel!" Kai laughed. "You sailed up the Charsis all by yourself? If we weren't in such dire straits here, I'd be furious!" She laughed again with great relief, and Shou's shoulders relaxed, glad to not be in trouble. His monkey ears dipped once, and he rubbed the back of his head, cheeks flushing as he became aware that a very beautiful woman was holding him very close to her bosom.

"I…er, wasn't alone. I found someone," he said sheepishly. Amon's breath froze in his lungs. Ten quirked an eyebrow. Kai released him and asked, "Who?"

"An escaped prisoner, I'll bet," Ten grunted. "I hope they can lift."

"No, even better." The boy's voice wavered as he saw powerful emotions appear on Amon's face. Being fourteen, he mistook Amon's concern for wrath. He said with some uncertainty, "Well, maybe it's best that-" he stopped when Amon's mouth opened into an 'o' of shock. Ten and Kai were too focused on Shou to notice, but Amon gaped as a young woman with pale skin and long, cornflower-yellow hair leaned over the side of the deck, staring down at them with childlike curiosity. For a vague moment, he wondered if he had wandered through a gate of sleep, a portal into another dimension where Iris was alive.

"Wait a second!" Shou cried, but may as well have been yelling at the pebbles on the shore. Instantly, Amon was running up the plank, tearing past the others, who now stood awestruck next to Shou. He leaped and snatched the rigging, swinging himself onto the deck in a manner that would have impressed any pirate. He skidded to a stop a few yards short of her, unable to process what he was seeing. Then, cautiously, as if approaching a mirage or a wild animal, he went up to her.

"Iris?" Her blonde bushel of spikes and back were turned to him. At the sound of his voice, she spun around slowly, clutching something in her right pants pocket. Her vibrant teal eyes settled on him, and a small, timid smile played across her lips. He bolted across the last few yards separating them and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, reveling in her warmth and scent. His grief melted away like the last dregs of snow on a warm spring morning.

_I knew it was too soon to say goodbye…_

"How?" he whispered, distantly aware that everyone was watching. "How did you survive? I saw you fall…"

She remained silent. Something wasn't right. Her body was limp in his arms. He pulled back, still grasping her upper arms, and read her expression. She eyed him once, plucked dimly at the wiring on his cybernetic arm, then her gaze drifted past him, absorbing the funeral pyre, and the blackened reaches of Malkuth. Her body tensed, and she turned her face towards the jungle, her pupils dilated. She sat down on the deck, taking what looked like a black and silver marble from her pocket and rolling it in her hands.

"Amon," Shou said, who had climbed onto the deck during their reunion. Kai and Ten were both on the shore, explaining things to the Megami warriors, who by now were massively confused. "I tried to warn you," the boy said, reserved. "She's not herself."

Before Amon could reply, a gruff voice to his right remarked, "Mako poisoning." Vincent's spiked boots thudded on the front of the ship, which Amon assumed he had scaled on his own. At the sight of the ragged man with wild black hair, Iris furtively tucked the marble into her pocket and stared at a shiny spot on the deck. Without pretense, Vincent knelt to examine her. As he kneeled, part of his cape swept back, revealing an antiquated, tri-barrel gun holstered to his side, which Amon noticed only because of years of living amongst thugs in the slums.

"Be careful! She's showed some aggression," Shou warned. Iris blanched and tried to push Vincent away, but he whispered something in her ear and she relaxed. Her Mako-infused eyes peered inquisitively at him, and Amon felt a chill run down his spine as a strange recognition dawned on his friend's face, as if she had known Vincent all her life. As if to say, "It's good to see you again." The crowd on the shore was dead silent, captivated by the scene. Vincent used his right hand, which had no claws on it, to open one of her eyes and examine it. He lifted one of her arms and let it fall, then nodded and stood up.

"Definitely Mako poisoning," he muttered. He looked down at her and said wistfully, "I'm all-too familiar with it. I wonder…" He held onto Iris's shoulders with the tenderness of a doctor, and brought his face close to hers, peering into her eyes. A few seconds passed before he nodded, confirming something to himself, and stood up. When he said nothing, Amon's patience failed him.

"There's gotta be a cure, right?" he demanded of Vincent. "I mean, look at her!"

"Calm down," Vincent said, raising his clawed hand. Amon fell silent, chastised. Vincent's blood-red gaze settled on Shou. "You're a healer, right?"

Shou seemed taken aback. "How'd you know?"

"I heard them talking about you last night, by the campfire," he said simply. Amon couldn't believe the man had overheard him and Kai at that distance, at least thirty yards. Then he remembered the man was a trained Turk, and they had ways of hearing and seeing that most people couldn't even conceive of. Vincent paced slowly around Iris and said, "I need your help. Do any of you have a Cure materia?"

Amon handed it over to him. Vincent appraised the orb between the claws on his left hand. "First generation," he growled. "It'll have to do." He gave the materia to Shou and instructed him to place the orb on Iris's forehead. She pawed at it limply, but Vincent pinned her arm to the ground. Amon's protective instincts immediately put him by Iris's side. Kai and Ten watched from the shore, intrigued.

"Let me do that," Amon said, and Vincent released her. Amon held her still, but she put up little resistance as the shapeshifter instructed Shou to channel his healing energy through the materia, drawing out the poison. Instead of light emanating from Shou, into the orb, and into Iris, the reverse effect occurred, and the warriors on the shore watched with bated breath as teal light retracted from Iris, into the orb, and into Shou. After a minute of this, Vincent forced Shou's hand away.

"That's enough. The warriors need your powers, too."

"Hey!" Ten called, kneeling by one of the gurneys. "Kid! Get down here quick. We're about to lose someone!"

Shou swiped the materia up and bolted out of the ship, where he began to tend to the worst of the wounded. The warriors gave him plenty of room as the blue-green, neon light swept over their injured comrade. Ten and Kai boarded the ship, seeing Iris for themselves, but seeing was all they could do, for she had fallen into a fitful sleep, murmuring and whimpering. Amon lifted her like a doll and said, "I'll take her to her bunk."

"Take her to my quarters," Kai suggested. "Those bunks are too small for a sick person."

Iris muttered something that sounded like "Cetra" in her sleep. As Amon descended with Iris into the hatch and Kai went to oversee the boarding process, Vincent turned to Ten and said, "We must meet somewhere private. We've much to discuss."

"Hell yeah we do." Ten rubbed his forehead with a rag, overwhelmed. Out of the corner of his mouth, he muttered so only Vincent could hear, "I thought this day would never come."

An hour later, Kai steered the Chameleon on a course towards the ocean. All too soon, as she went on the intercom and ordered everyone below deck. Someone had spotted a Zenith airship in the sky, making a b-line for the black castle, which, interestingly enough, had an airship-sized landing pad on the roof. Kai activated the invisibility and they spent the rest of the trip down the Charsis huddled in the control room, the bunks, and the small galley located next to the hull. The wounded, now out of harm's way thanks to Shou, were finally able to start recovering. As there were only two spots in the sick bay, the rest of the injured they had laid on emergency cots in the hull, which was mostly empty of cargo thanks to Kai's two deserters.

Once they were at a safe distance from any Zenith craft, Kai deactivated the invisibility and declared the deck to be safe, but most of the warriors had found a place to hunker down and catch some much-needed z's. Shou slept among them, an empty flask of rice liquor with a tough-looking samurai painted on it next to him. The warriors had nothing but gratitude for him, and he became somewhat of a celebrity aboard the ship.

But there were a few crew members who forewent the luxury of sleep. Amon, Ten, and Kai sat in the meeting room as Vincent paced, struggling to come to terms with a hundred years' worth of information. They filled him in on every worldly event they could possibly think of, from Zenith's increased interest in reviving Mako reactors, to the Cetra reviving in the North, to Alexa's kidnapping and what followed. Amon had risen once during the meeting to check on Iris, but she was lost in her dream world. As he reentered the meeting room, Vincent turned to him, and not for the first time, Amon resisted a shudder under the man's demonic red stare.

"Amon," he asked, his cape undone so he could see his pale face. "Do you have that scroll Ten gave you?"

"Er, yeah." He reached in his pocket for the scroll. He handed it to Vincent, who unrolled it and clipped the parchment to the wall. Even in the dim green light of Kai's meeting room, the writing winked at them as clear as starlight.

"What in bloody Hades is that?" Kai asked. "Is _that_ what this is all about?"

"It's a long, long story," Vincent said. "Too long to tell right now."

"Try. We've got time," Amon said, taking a seat next to Ten, who rubbed his thumbnail idly against one of his daggers. "I for one think I deserve some answers. And so does Iris."

"Answers…" Vincent mumbled, lowering his gaze so that his hair concealed his features. Kai shot Amon a warning glance, but his anger flared.

"Hey! Did you hear me? You can start with what that thing has to do with Sephiroth and the Cetra," he demanded.

Vincent brought his head up, leaning against the wall, he clutched his hand to his breast, took a deep, somewhat shaky breath, and said, "The scroll, more or less, explains how to prevent the end of the world. It is a prophecy."

He paused to let this information sink in. When no one spoke, he continued, stumbling with his words a little as his memory came back to him (being inhuman for over a hundred years tended to tamper with one's memories), "What Bylet'h—that is his proper name—did was, in a sense, a perversion of the prophecy, called Heaven's Ultimatum. He misinterpreted the Cetra's writing—yes, this was written by a Cetra prophet—and used what he learned to revive Sephiroth. He was quite mad, as you all clearly witnessed, and very, very old. But he was not immortal. Many years ago, he…imprisoned me, thinking he could somehow use my immortality to preserve his life force. He fed me a potion to keep me trapped as a beast, and every full moon he took some of my blood, creating an elixir of life while he pursued his twisted goal." His eyes clouded over as something hidden pained him. "What my friends must have thought when I disappeared, I'll never know."

Kai gave him a look of pity, and Ten rubbed his goatee thoughtfully, twirling the dagger in his fingers.

"Gods," Amon said, leaning his head against his hand. "So what does the scroll really say? How do we stop the apocalypse?"

"What I know is limited," Vincent said stiffly. "I cannot read it." Amon groaned, and Kai drummed her fingers on the tabletop, thinking.

"Surely someone can? Someone with knowledge of the Ancients?" she proposed.

"There is someone, someone I'm hoping is still alive and well," Vincent replied. "But first, I suppose I owe you more explanations." He moved to unclip the scroll, then stopped mid-reach. He made a small sound of acknowledgement and said, in what Amon knew to be a rare display of mirth, "Sleeping beauty awakens."

Iris padded into the room, a blanket draped around her bare shoulders. She had on a black tube top and a pair of gray sweatpants, appearing tired and disheveled, but otherwise healthy. Her head craned slowly in Vincent's direction, and for the first time in a day her eyes were lucid. Also for the first time, she spoke, much to everyone's relief.

"What'd I miss?" she grumbled, as if she had merely overslept. Amon rose and gave his seat to her, and she eyed him suspiciously and sat down. She asked sleepily, "Where's my materia?"

"Your what?" Amon said.

"The silver materia. It was in my pocket, wasn't it?"

"Oh, that," Amon said. "It's probably in your-" he flushed, admitting to having changed her clothes, "-other pair of pants in the drawer by Kai's bed. He turned a deeper red as Kai gave him a somewhat surprised look, having also admitted to going through her drawers.

Iris yawned. "Okay." She looked at Vincent and flashed him a knowing smile. Vincent stood perfectly still, his eyes locked on hers. Her voice was still dreamy as she told him, "I heard your voice in the darkness. Yours and Amon's and Shou's. But it was yours that brought me back. He told me to follow you, so I did."

"Who told you?" Vincent asked, barely above a whisper.

"Cloud." Iris yawned again, and everyone in the room fell silent. "He says he's not mad at your for missing his death, says it was pretty boring. He said some other stuff, too, but I don't remember. What were you guys talking about?"

"She's still sick," Amon interjected, standing up. "She shouldn't be here right now. I'm going to take her to her room."

"No, she needs to hear." Ten motioned for Amon to sit. He did not.

"What's your involvement in this, Ten? You've been oddly silent," Amon asked hotly.

"Iris has an important role to play," Vincent interrupted, before Ten could answer. "Ten told me that he was informed of her importance, and asked by her father to protect her."

"I always thought it was just because Gale was paranoid," Amon growled, shooting a sideways glare at Ten. "He never mentioned anything about Iris and a prophecy. And since when do you let others speak for you?"

"Discretion was key," Ten said, ignoring Amon's question. "There are only a few people in the world who knew about Iris's role in the prophecy. Gale, Alexa, myself, Vincent, Kaito, and Bylet'h."

"No," Iris said, pointing at Ten from across the table. Her anger had brought her back for moment. "That crazy bitch, that scientist, Nox—SHE knew. She had to have known. Why else would she have kidnapped me? She and Bylet'h were in on it together. Bylet'h took my mother, Nox took me. Gods only know why. Is it hot in here?"

"How do you know that?" Amon asked.

Iris rubbed her hair at the roots, her brow creasing as she struggled to string her thoughts together. "At the lab, when we were in the cryo room, in one of the tubes…I saw Sephiroth's body. She must have built it for Bylet'h, and given it to him, so when he killed my mo-" she stopped suddenly, and drew a loud, racking sob that shook her lungs and filled the room with her wailing. They could not get her to calm down. After a few minutes of her breakdown, Amon escorted her back to Kai's quarters, where she thrashed and moaned and cried until exhaustion took her, leaving her best friend wondering if she would ever be herself again.

* * *

><p>Half a day later, and after another healing session with Shou, Iris joined them for the remainder of the meeting. Her eyes were still puckered and her complexion almost pale enough to envy Vincent's, but with a sedative to keep her mind off her mother and a day's rest, she perked up and sipped at a cup of Wutaian tea, sitting close to Vincent. They would be reaching the coastline soon to drop off the Megami warriors at their ship, but after that, they had no clear goals. Ten wanted to find his family in Corel, Amon wanted to start on the hunt for the summons materia, and Kai wanted whatever would yield the biggest loot—hunting for materia, in short. No one bothered to ask Shou what he wanted, being fourteen, but they agreed to protect him from his uncle's assassins as long as he continued to be their healer. He was too distracted by the warriors, who insisted on teaching him how to play "Lockhart Roulette," a card game Tifa invented (which could easily be converted into a drinking game) and a few of Yuffie's traps and tricks for sticky situations.<p>

Vincent stood up to begin the meeting. Kai, Amon, Ten, and Iris gathered around the table, passing the scroll around. Iris scanned the writing briefly and set it down, unimpressed, resting her chin in her palm. "Why would dad keep something like this from me?" she asked, pushing the scroll away. "I don't understand. How does this involve me?"

Vincent had his hands clasped behind his back. He lowered them and let his cape fall over his arms, concealing most of his body. "It's a long story. Centuries old, in fact. I suppose I need to start at the beginning. I hope you're all comfortable, this could take a while, and I'm not, how do you put it, an eloquent speaker."

"Just start from the beginning," Iris reiterated. "Like you said."

He glanced down at the scroll, then up at his audience. He began to pace, retracing his memories in his head. "Very well. It began with a woman named Calleigh Rider, and a man simply known as 'Jared'…"


	22. The Shapeshifter's Tale

(A/N: Annnnd here's the other half. I had originally intended for any flashbacks to be written separately, as one-shots and drabbles, but I think the story deserves a few more glimpses into the past. So here, at last, is Vincent's take on things.)

Chapter 22: The Shapeshifter's Tale

**One year after the birth of Zenith, Inc.**

"For he's a jolly good fellow," the crowd inside Solstice's only bar sang in cheerful, drunken unison, hoisting Cloud high in the air. "For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good feeeelloooooow!"

The chorus strained at the appropriate time, but Vincent never heard the end of the celebration song. He didn't hear them grab Tifa, who squawked, rather unladylike, as she was placed on a chair and lifted above the crowd as they belted out "For she's a jolly good fellow!" Nor did he hear the pop as Barrett uncorked the bar's most expensive bottle of old Sector 7 champagne, which had traveled all the way from Seventh Heaven to the Thirsty Mog. He didn't hear the clink of glasses and Barrett's bellow ("Speech! Ya'all shuddup, it's time for a speech from the future best man!") as the crowd slowly quieted down.

Instead, he heard only the nighttime chorus of Solstice—the trills of the crickets, the buzz of a summer locust, the wind whispering through the stalks of golden wheat. Not far in the distance, the soft warbles of chocobos in their sleep sounded out from the Midway Farms barn. The last noise brought a small, rare species of a smile to the shapeshifter's lips. Despite the complaining about how much time he had wasted breeding and riding chocobos to get the Knights materia, his spiky-haired friend could not deny his fondness for the giant birds. In a way, Cloud resembled them, with his jaunty yellow hair that stuck up like feathers. Just as Yuffie liked to remind him, on more than one occasion, that he sometimes resembled a bat, with his great fluttering cape and black uniform. Not that he shared a special fondness for bats. He supposed she was referring to his darker side, the side he seldom liked to think about, much less joke about.

But that was Yuffie for you. He sighed, wondering what the inexorable materia hunter was up to at this hour. Probably stalking some poor, unsuspecting traveler with loose strings on his purse. Some things never changed, although she claimed to only rob those who 'deserved' it, meaning anyone taller than the vertically-challenged ninja. There was no one she'd care to rob out tonight, if she were there—the streets were empty. He made his way down the main road through Solstice, appreciating the quiet of the small country town. While Edge City had nowhere near the sound pollution he had remembered of Midgar, it was still a city, and always roaring with the humdrum of traffic.

Cloud and Tifa had chosen the location for their town wisely. Way out here to the east, with the mountains to the south and Kalm to the northwest, the stars shone brightly at night, and the air was soothing. He closed his eyes and stood still, listening, and heard footsteps. His old instincts as a Turk kicked in, telling him not to show that he'd noticed. Instead, he pretended to examine a statue of a dragon perched at the front of a weapons and armor store.

The footsteps grew louder. Through a nearby alleyway, someone walked with a slight limp. His guest? He turned around, just in time to see an old man hobbling away from him with a cane. Vincent frowned. Was the lack of fighting over the past year making him sloppy? He didn't think so. Just as he was about to return to his course, a whoosh of air from behind alerted him that his guest had dropped from the roof of the weapons shop. He landed with a barely audible thud as Vincent spun to face him, his right hand reaching spasmodically for his gun, Cerberus.

"Let's not begin the night with violence, Vincent," his guest suggested, his voice raspy and faint.

"Hello, Jared," Vincent greeted coolly, tapping the butt of his gun with his metal claws, indicating he had been ready. Despite his guest's words of peace, he knew the man's reputation better than the man himself, and a gun check was hardly an irrational reaction. Even with his good vision, Vincent failed to discern what his guest looked like. He seemed to prefer the shadows, something he could sympathize with.

"Let us walk to the town gate," the ragged man rasped. "The streets are vacant, but I cannot risk any ears other than ours hearing what I have to say. Although, as a former agent for the Abomination, I know you appreciate secrecy as much as I do."

He ignored Jared's term for Shinra (recently renamed 'Zenith Inc.'). He extended a gloved hand, allowing Jared to move first. The man swept off in the direction of the gate to the west—a great, wrought-iron structure with a golden eagle perched at the apex of the arch, where the two halves of the gate joined. The eagle leered down at them with its proud, curved beak and slit eyes, appearing more like a raven in the absence of sunlight. They exited the town proper, but Jared did not speak until they had walked a few hundred yards from town. They stood in the middle of a vacant field, and it was there that Jared stopped, staring up at the night sky. A tumbleweed cart-wheeled by, propelled by a low prairie wind. Somewhere behind them, a nocturnal creature screeched.

The moon hung high and full, casting milky light on all. Jared's form was illuminated, and now Vincent understood why the man preferred secrecy. He was practically covered head-to-toe in bandages, like a leper, adorned in a set of gray trousers and a sleeveless gray shirt that folded like a robe across the chest. He turned to look back at Solstice, and in doing so revealed the side of his face, which was swathed up to the nose in a dark cowl. A turban was wrapped around his head, with locks of platinum blonde hair poking out from beneath. He looked like a desert wraith, or a mummy brought back from the dead. His eyes, however, were the only thing not desiccated or ancient about him. They glinted like sapphires beneath the shade of his turban, hinting a trace of Mako. And perhaps something else—the ghost of his former self. They were haunted eyes that had seen much.

"Your friends celebrate, while my men and women are scattered to the winds or dead," Jared lamented quietly.

"The WRO's new zero-tolerance policy for terrorists goes both ways," he replied. "In case you forgot, AVALANCHE has disbanded as well."

"Hm, true. But no one from AVALANCHE was killed. Or, in Calleigh's case, taken prisoner," Jared remarked. Vincent raised an eyebrow, remembering the events that took place—had it really been a year since Calleigh attempted to assassinate Rufus? Jared shook his head slowly, his bandages shifting a little, revealing gray skin beneath. "I'm not here to start a fight. That part of my life is over," he said.

"Why turn over a new leaf?" Vincent asked. "I thought you hated Zenith and Rufus."

"The Abomination has beaten me," Jared replied, his voice little more than breath against fabric. "I do not wish to see any more blood spilled on my part. Enough has been done by them."

Vincent inhaled the night air and braced for what he may be hearing next, asking, "What did they do to you? If you're looking for someone to listen to your story, you had better tell me now."

Jared closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. He sighed, "It doesn't matter anymore. I have seen the future."

Vincent wondered if the rebel leader was delusional. He also knew that appearances didn't always speak the truth, and it was this knowledge alone that kept him in a listening mood. Jared continued, "What matters is that the cycle of birth and destruction shall continue. But I have made a discovery, found the key, if you would prefer such terms, to preventing the next apocalypse."

The nocturnal animal screeched once more. Vincent folded his arms. "Next apocalypse? Wasn't that supposed to be Meteor?"

"Yes," Jared muttered. "But there will be another."

"Have you any proof?"

Jared reached down into a messenger bag by his hip, digging for something. Vincent's fingers on his gun hand twitched out of reflex. The ex-terrorist made no sign of concern as he continued rummaging around in the bag. He said, "You have been granted immortality by the Abomination. At a high price. You of all people should know about cycles of life and death—or you will, once your friends begin to age, and you won't look a day over twenty-five."

"Get to the point," Vincent said, an edge to his cold voice.

"I only mean to say, one apocalypse passes us by," Jared motioned with one wrapped hand to the glowing shards of Meteor in the sky, distant splotches of black against the face of the moon, "and the next approaches us, with the passage of time as its vehicle."

"You're saying you know when the world will end?"

"I'm not as bold as that." He chuckled, his laugh like gravel in a tin can. He withdrew a very ancient-looking scroll from his bag and unrolled it, holding it up for Vincent to see. The shapeshifter examined it closely—strange, curving, silvery script, reflecting the moonlight above. He stared at the scroll for a long while, the characters vaguely familiar. Then, it hit him. He had seen the same writing in some of Gast's notebooks in the Mansion. A rune and a translation here and there, but the meanings of which, he couldn't recall. And those notes were long gone, along with most of Gast's research, either locked away in Zenith's archives under top-secret lock-and-key, or otherwise just plain missing.

"What does it say?" he asked, feeling whispers of truth begin to stir in the corners of his mind.

"It has taken me nearly a year," Jared said. "Admittedly, certain files had to be lifted from the Abomination—ex-Shinra, if you will. But I obtained Professor Gast's notes and was able to translate it. It is a summary, predicting the next threat to our world, and revealing the one who will save us from great peril."

"Who wrote it?"

"A Cetran prophet, thousands of years ago. It is written in the form of a poem, called 'Heaven's Ultimatum'."

Vincent shook his head. "You are a smart man, Jared. What makes you think it speaks the truth?"

Jared's icy eyes locked on his crimson ones. "Because, it has already begun."

Silence passed between them. Vincent said, "I think you had better tell me everything. I'm assuming you'll want something in exchange for this information." He braced himself for a bargain. What would the ex-terrorist demand? That he spring Calleigh from the custody of Zenith Inc.? Help him dissolve Zenith before it became a superpower?

Jared said, "I only want you to swear that you will do everything in your power to protect this prophecy, see to it that it comes true."

That surprised him. "First tell me what it says. Then I will give you my word."

"I shall summarize what I can." Jared took a long, shuddering breath. "A man and a woman will visit a pariah, seeking a means to bear a child. The outcast will provide the woman, who is barren, with an ovum belonging to a martyr."

Vincent stopped him. "You mean Aeris?"

"Yes. I met Tseng and Elena about six months ago. They wanted to get pregnant, but Elena is unable to ovulate. I happened to have some of Aeris's reproductive cells in storage—wouldn't you believe it, but the lab I occupy in the mountains had some when I found it. I must have accidentally stumbled upon one of Hojo's old hideaways. If you believe in accidents, that is."

Vincent imagined Jared was smiling beneath his veil. "I overheard the heartbroken couple talking about their troubles at a pub in Kalm. I was in the area as part of my research for the scroll, having made little progress cracking the Cetra's code. Knowing Tseng had access to archives I needed, I offered to help them, and when I told Tseng I had some of Aeris's cells, he was overcome with emotion. I think he had a fondness for the Ancient girl, having watched over her all those years in Midgar. He was so grateful that he retrieved for me a portion of Gast's notes that had been rescued from the Mansion. Well, you can imagine my shock when I transcribed the first lines, and read that the actions I had performed that very day were the start of the prophecy."

"Or so you say," Vincent said, knowing that without someone trustworthy to translate the scroll, he could only go by Jared's word.

"Disbelief is only natural," Jared continued. "But hear me out. The rest of the prophecy goes as follows: A child bearing Aeris's powers will be born to the couple. She is the Scion, the one who will birth the warrior that will defeat the Great Evil."

"What is the Great Evil?"

"According to this prophet, it is the Cetra."

Now Vincent was convinced he was mad. "The Cetra were peaceful people, in perfect attunement with the planet," he argued. "They wouldn't seek to destroy the world, or enslave anyone. Life was sacred to them."

"All the more reason for them to hate destructive, murderous humans," Jared rasped. "Think about it. If they returned to see the damage we had caused to their precious Gaia, what do you think their reaction would be?"

"But Gaia is finally recovering," Vincent replied. "The WRO has vowed to protect and restore the environment."

"The WRO," Jared muttered, stuffing the scroll back into his bag, "will fall under the control of Zenith. And when Zenith picks up where Shinra left off, well, it's only a matter of time before they enrage the spirits of the Cetra."

This thought robbed Vincent of words. He wondered how such a thing would be possible—the rebirth of the Cetra, a race that had died out thousands of years ago? The return of Shinra under a new name? When he voiced this concern to Jared, the man shrugged.

"It doesn't say what year or day the Cetra will return, or how, it only gives the signs."

"Which are?"

"The Scion, the child with Aeris's gifts, will have one child, and one child only, until one of her descendants births the warrior. It will be a female. She will resemble her ancestors, Cloud and Tifa."

Vincent interrupted him again. "If this is generations after Cloud's time, how is that possible? Their genes will have mixed with others by then…" He trailed off and glanced down at the town, where the lights at the bar were still on. He could make out the shadows of many people, still moving in lively patterns as they celebrated Cloud and Tifa's engagement. "That is, if they have children." Somewhere deep in his heart, he knew they would. He began to feel goose-bumps prickle on the back of his neck, something he hadn't felt since he heard Lucrecia's voice in the crystal cave.

"I cannot tell you how it is possible, only that it WILL happen," Jared insisted. "On the night of her birth, the North Star will shine brighter than ever, and the rest of the stars will wink out. Then, sometime during her lifetime, the Cetra will return. They will seek vengeance against humanity for mistreating Gaia, and will enslave mankind and remake the world, ending civilization as we know it."

"How will she stop them?" This was beginning to sound more and more like a bad plot from a play at the Golden Saucer, he thought.

"She will suffer many trials of heart. One of her loved ones will betray her. She will be aided by a great teacher, a powerful warrior from the past, and will lead the fight against the Cetra." It was there that Jared stopped. "The rest is unknown to me. Gast's key only revealed so much of their writing. The way she will defeat the Cetra, I believe, is in the last few lines of the poem, but I'm unable to translate them."

Vincent took this in, breathing in the night air, exhaling it slowly through his nose. He suddenly wanted to meditate on this on his own, in the dark, where his thoughts rang clearest. If the prophecy was true, then if he chose to ignore Jared, he could be indirectly responsible for the end of the world. If he believed him, he would have to warn Cloud and Tifa, as well as Tseng and Elena, who would have to watch their child like a hawk. And that child, when she became a woman and had her own children, would have to watch them until she was of child-bearing age…it was enough to make his head spin, and he had seen many unexplainable things during his long, lonely existence.

"How and where did you find this scroll, anyway?" he asked, wondering why he hadn't thought to ask that sooner.

Jared didn't reply for a long while. He turned to face Vincent in full, holding up his hands. "Look at me. My entire body has been afflicted with Mako radiation. Not an inch of me remains unscathed, unless you count my eyes. I am a monster in the eyes of society. When my only love, Calleigh, was taken, I learned that she was put into cryogenic storage. I wanted to die. I knew I'd never stand a chance of breaking her out of Zenith, not on my own, and so I went to die a quiet death of starvation in the mountains. On my third day without anything to eat, my will cracked, and I began to search for food. In my desperation, I stumbled upon a cave where the Lifestream flowed beneath the rocks like water, and pools of Mako formed naturally. I came across a chest, which unlocked at my touch, and inside the chest was the scroll. I dedicated my life thereon out to deciphering it, knowing that, somehow, it was important."

"Can you show me this cave?"

Jared nodded earnestly. "If it will help you believe, I will take you there. Meet me at the mountain pass tomorrow."

"Do not be fooled. A cave and a scroll, an elaborate story are hardly enough proof," Vincent said. "Unless you can offer me genuine evidence that the scroll is correct, I'm not promising you anything."

Jared chuckled gratingly. "Belief takes a while to develop. But I think, in due time, you will be convinced."

Vincent watched as the doors to the Thirsty Mog opened, with several people emerging onto the street. The party was coming to an end. He had missed Cloud and Tifa's celebration. Though he didn't care much for revelry, he felt guilty for having left his friends. He had listened to this man's proposal long enough. With a flourish of his cape, he began to walk towards the city. Turning back to regard Jared, he said, "Tomorrow. The mountain pass. Sunset."

Jared gave him a curt nod and took off into the darkness.

* * *

><p>The silence inside the Chameleon meeting room was practically tangible. The radar in the other room chimed, indicating that they were close to their destination.<p>

"The next day," Vincent said, his voice harsh from talking for so long, "we went to the cave in the southern mountains. The chest was there, as he said."

Iris scoffed and waved her hand in dismissal. "He could have made the whole thing up and just placed some random chest in a random cave. He was a sociopath, after all."

"That thought," Vincent said, humoring her with an amused smirk, "crossed my mind, I assure you." Iris shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her arms folded across her chest, her shoulders slouching a little. She knew he had more to say, but didn't necessarily want to hear it. The more his story unfolded, the more she felt foolish for having never known.

"What did you do next?" Amon asked. "Did you tell Cloud and Tifa?"

"Not yet," Vincent replied. "Before I burdened them with the truth, I had to make sure Jared wasn't scheming. Several months went by, and I dropped by Tseng and Elena's place. Elena had given birth to a baby girl. They named her Natsuki."

"That means 'hope', doesn't it?" Kai asked. She shrugged when everyone looked at her. "What? I just find that interesting, that's all."

"Rightly so," Vincent agreed. "The child had bright, blue-green eyes. I visited them again when she was a toddler. I saw a brilliant little girl who claimed she could listen to the flowers, hear voices in the wind. During my visit, their family cat was struck by a car. It was nearly dead when Natsuki found it. Can you guess what happened next?"

"She healed the cat, didn't she?" Amon asked. He turned to Iris. "Remember that chocobo chick Alexa found, the one that had been struck by a wagon? We were pretty young then, but it's a really strong memory for me."

"N-no." Iris turned her head away from him, muttering, "I don't."

Before Amon could question this, Vincent spoke up again. "After I had witnessed Natsuki bring a near-dead cat back to full health, just by offering a prayer to the planet, I had my proof…"

* * *

><p>Cloud clasped Tifa's hand in his. Their wedding bands glinted in the sunlight that shined through the window of their modest-sized home on the chocobo ranch in Solstice. Tifa's was a simple gold band shaped like a dolphin, Cloud's, a plain titanium ring inlaid with a single black strip of onyx. He looked up at the man in red and black, who stood by the front door, and said, "You've been even more secretive than usual, Vincent. What's the deal?"<p>

Tifa looked at Cloud, then gave Vincent a sympathetic smile. There was a slight bulge her to belly, where her free hand rested lightly. The table behind the sofa, upon which they were sitting, was still scattered with baby shower gifts. Tifa said, "What Cloud means is, we rarely see you. You've been scarce for nearly a year now. Is everything all right?"

"Yes and no," Vincent answered. When neither of them spoke, he began. "The night of your engagement, I left the party early to meet with someone, who divulged some very important information to me. Information that could affect you, me, everyone on the planet."

"And you choose now to tell us? After we've settled down?" Cloud asked, releasing Tifa's hand and striding over to the hearth, where he leaned against the stone fireplace. A pile of chopped wood lay to his right, each log shaped into a perfect wedge, and arranged neatly into a pyramid. There were photos on the shelf to his left, pictures of AVALANCHE, a particularly stunning panorama of Cosmo Canyon, a snapshot of Seventh Heaven, and one of him and Tifa in front of the foundations of a house, shovels in their hands, their faces sunburned and cheerful.

Vincent held up a hand. "I had my reasons. I had to wait until there was proof. Until I could be sure that the information I'd received was true." He reached into a pocket on the inside of his cloak, and handed several photos over to Tifa. She sifted through them, and her lips parted as she took in a sharp breath.

"This is Elena and Tseng's daughter. Natsuki, isn't it?" she breathed, her brow furrowing as she flipped through the polaroids. "Cloud, come look." He walked back over to her and lifted a single photo of a brown-haired child with bright, blue-green eyes. Haunting, familiar eyes. He handed it back to Tifa quickly, his face like a stone.

"Elena couldn't have children on her own," Vincent explained to them. "She was aided by a man who possessed some of Aeris's cells. This is the child of Aeris and Tseng."

"How?" Tifa asked.

"Hojo must have taken samples from her when she was kidnapped," Cloud said, the strain in his voice evident. "Aeris never mentioned it, but…"

"It's possible they took them while she was asleep," Vincent added. "So I had Natsuki's DNA tested, and it is positive for traces of the Cetra, along with Aeris. This child is the most important human alive."

Tifa rubbed her belly absentmindedly. Vincent glanced at Cloud, who stood perfectly still. Not particularly fond of awkward silences, Tifa said, "I can see it in your face, Vincent. Just tell us. What's going on?"

And he told them about the scroll, about Jared's prediction, and Natsuki's powers. They listened attentively out of respect for their friend and ally. But no sooner had he finished than Cloud gave him a dubious look, saying, "I didn't take you to listen to madmen, Vincent."

"I thought he was mad at first, too," Vincent insisted. "But the child…I saw her call upon the powers of the Lifestream. I don't think that's something to be taken lightly, do you?"

"What I think," Cloud said, clenching his fist, the muscle on his arm with the pink ribbon going taught, "is that Jared man needs to be hunted down. How could he use a part of Aeris like that? How could he even dare?"

Tifa sighed and brushed a stray strand of dark, silky hair out of her face. She handed the photos back to Vincent, adding, "She looks just like her."

"Jared may be a liar," Vincent said. "He may also be telling the truth. It's something we cannot afford to ignore."

"I don't know about all that prophecy crap," Cloud said. "But if Natsuki is Aeris's, then we have to protect her."

"Her father is a Turk," Tifa said, folding her arms and swishing her hair back over her shoulder. "I think she will have _plenty_ of protection."

"Tseng has sworn to do everything in his power to keep her safe," Vincent said. "But we should also be wary."

Cloud scoffed. "Wary? How can we even think of trusting him? In case you haven't forgotten, he stalked Aeris. He kidnapped her. He hit her…"

"He also loved her," Vincent said calmly. "That was plain enough to me when I saw him watch his daughter play. The love he had for Aeris, he has tenfold for Natsuki."

"And where do we fit into this?" Tifa looked up at him expectantly, conveying something with her large, dark eyes. Vincent felt a thread of guilt worm its way into him. He knew what she didn't want him to ask. She was tired of fighting. She wanted a safe home and a family with Cloud. She was afraid he was going to take Cloud from her, to investigate the Ultimatum.

"Jared is working to translate the rest of the scroll," Vincent told her, and he saw relief wash over her. "I won't ask either of you to help. But take the knowledge that I have given you, and pass it down to the next generation. When Jared is finished translating the Ultimatum, he wants to give the scroll and the code to you. And he asks that you pass it down to your children."

"That's quite a burden," Cloud said, eyeing him critically, "to rest on the shoulders of my unborn son. The knowledge of another apocalypse…protecting Aeris's child."

"_I_ will guard Natsuki," Vincent emphasized, aware that he was touching on a heavy subject. "And I will also guard her children, and her children's children. I can look after yours as well, if you'll let me."

"I think," Tifa raised her voice, standing up slowly, "that we need some time to think about this. If everything is true, as you've said, then we have a great deal to discuss." She looked over at her husband, her childhood friend, and her hero. His eyes had a withdrawn, distant look that she hadn't seen since his days living alone in the church, sick and depressed. She knew she shouldn't be angry at Vincent, but she felt a flare of resentment for him, bringing back such feelings, and talking about death. They had been through enough danger and strife to span several lifetimes, always with the threat of the apocalypse hanging over their heads like a great, black nimbus. She did not want that for her children.

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Tifa," Vincent said, bowing his head. "But I couldn't keep this to myself any longer. If-"

"I think you'd better leave," Cloud interrupted, opening the door for Vincent. He didn't shout, he didn't glare or menace, or even shoot him a dirty look. If anything, there was a grayness about him, in the faded blue uniform he wore, in the corners of his eyes. Years and years of fighting could sap the life out of a man, like dry, harsh earth shrivels a tree. Yet there was still plenty of icy fire in Cloud's eyes, and Tifa was practically glowing with maternal energy. Alone, they were vulnerable, but together, they would get through this.

Could he?

Vincent bowed once and left the newlyweds alone to their thoughts.

* * *

><p>"Not much later," Vincent told the companions, "Tifa had a son. I was traveling the world, helping Jared search for the missing piece to his puzzle. We began to hear whispers of a cult of stigma-afflicted men and women. They began to cause trouble in the cities, spouting religious dogma and kidnapping people. They called themselves The Black Wings. Their leader, Bylet'h, was a former companion of Jared's. He'd heard about the scroll, and demanded that Jared give it to him, but Jared had gotten wind of his friend's evil intent. He hid the scroll, and confronted Bylet'h, who killed him."<p>

"So Jared never gave my ancestors this?" Iris asked, tapping the Ultimatum with her index finger.

"No, but they knew enough," he said. "Bylet'h somehow got a hold of the scroll, after a century of searching. But that is where my story ends."

"What? What happened? You can't stop there!" Iris demanded. Vincent's hair curtained his face, casting it in shadow.

"I was kidnapped," Vincent hissed. "Bylet'h sought immortality, and he tried to get it through me. He succeeded, and I was held as a prisoner in…another body." His voice croaked, and he glanced at the door. "I have talked enough. Ten can you fill you in on the rest. Excuse me." With those words, he stormed out of the room, his red cape waving behind him. Iris cursed and turned to Ten. He tucked the dagger he had been fiddling with back into his trench coat and cleared his throat.

"I'll tell ya what I know," he said, and made eye contact with Iris and Amon. "You both know how the Goddess Clan was started, so I ain't gonna waste your time with that."

"Amen!" Amon feigned a sigh of relief. He glanced at Iris, but she was too busy scowling to react to his joke. Ten's nostrils flared and he put a fist on the table and pointed a warning finger at them.

"Look here," he growled. "If you ain't gonna be serious, ya'all can just get on up and go cool off. Cuz what I got to say next is extremely important."

"You don't have to say anything!" Iris snapped.

"Iris-" Amon started, but she cut him off.

"I know what he's going to say. He's going to say that when I was born, the North Star shined and all the other stars went out." Her voice rose until she was practically yelling, her chest heaving. She stood up from her seat, tipping her chair over. "He's going to tell me that my mother was descended from Aeris, and that I'm the warrior who's supposed to save the planet from the Cetra." She laughed harshly. "Me! The girl who failed her trials, who ran away and sold the Buster Sword, who failed to rescue her own mother…" She laughed again and shook her head, muttering "What a joke…" before slamming the door behind her.

Ten, Kai, and Amon sat in the suddenly quiet room, before Kai said, "I'd like to hear the rest of the story, please."

"Ain't much left to tell," Ten said, leaning over and picking up Iris's chair. The empty seat stood out like a missing tooth.

"Should we go get her?" Amon asked.

Ten waved a hand. "Nah, let her be. She's sat through enough." He put his boots up on the table. "Anyway, the Goddess Clan was formed by Cloud and Tifa, a martial arts and sword-fightin' academy, and also a way of life. They taught their pupils, including their own kids and gran'kids, how to respect the planet and live in accordance with it."

Amon groaned. "Spare me. I'm going to go find her…"

Ten flicked a hand at him, and Amon left the room. Kai waited patiently for him to continue. "They wanted to pass their skills down to the next generation, in case the planet ever needed 'em," said Ten. "So I guess Cloud and Tifa believed Vincent after all. And little Natsuki grew up and had a daughter, who had a daughter, ya get the rest. 'Til Iris's mother was born." He leaned forward for emphasis, and said in a low, mysterious voice, "Now this's where it gets interesting. The prophecy didn't say nothin' about Aeris's descendant marryin' a Strife. But Alexa met Gale, and they had Iris. Gale and I were old friends, and I was there for the night of Iris's birth."

"Was it like Vincent said?" Kai asked. "Did the stars go out?"

"Ain't never seen anything like it in my life," Ten nodded sagely. "Soon's they cut the umbilical cord, we heard shouts from outside. I ran out to see what the commotion was, thinkin' it was an animal raid or somethin', but people was pointin' to the sky and yelling. I looked up. Not a star in the sky, or a cloud. It was real eerie, like…" he searched for an analogy, pointing to the white board, "like one second having a chalkboard with writing all over it, then turnin' around and finding the whole thing blank. The stars had been out earlier, and the moon. They were gone. They just vanished. All except one. The North Star, the tip of Odin's lance, flared up super bright, until it was like daytime."

"Did everyone panic?"

"No," Ten laughed his deep, belly laugh. "Maybe a few spilled drinks is all. Jes' as quick as it happened, it faded and went back to normal. Rest of the stars popped back into place." He snapped his fingers. "And that was that. People said it was a weird atmospheric phenomenon, like the northern lights. Load of horseshit, if y'ask me. Now when I went back in the house, and told Gale and Alexa, they both got real still and silent."

"They recognized one of the signs," Kai filled in for him.

"Yes. It broke poor Alexa's heart, knowin' all that pressure to save the world would be on her daughter. They decided to rear her without tellin' her anything, thinkin' that knowledge was too much for a lil' kid." He waved a hand at the door. "And yeh see what kinda attitude Iris's got. She always knew somethin' was up, I bet."

"So where do you come in?"

"Many years later," Ten said, "I got a call from Gale, sayin' Iris had run away. I never heard anything like that in his voice. He sounded old, and tired. He said she could take care of herself, but he wanted me to keep an eye on her. So I offered her a job to keep her off the streets, and she and Amon both started workin' for my delivery service. My ancestors took over Strife Delivery, y'see."

"So Iris worked there, until her mom was kidnapped," Kai finished.

"Until the Black Wings took Alexa," Ten said, standing up and stretching. "And all this craziness went down." He waved to encompass everything.

"Gods," Kai sighed, rubbing her eyelids. "It's enough to make you want to drink yourself silly."

"Yeah," Ten grunted. "Where's the rum on this boat, anyway?"

Kai grinned sardonically and took him by the arm. "C'mon. I'll show you…"

"Best get us a good one," Ten said darkly. "After we unload the warriors, I've a feelin' we're gonna be driftin' a while."


	23. The Sea and the Faeling

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 23: The Sea and the Faeling

The Chameleon slowed to a halt, just shy of a mile off the western shore of the Mideel continent. The skies had darkened again and the wind stirred, carrying the dewy scent of rain. From her bird's-eye view up in the sails, Iris surveyed the deck below. Her fingers entwined in the rigging, gripping it tightly, though not out of acrophobia. She rested her cheek against one of the ropes, watching the white-clad warriors as they busied themselves. The ramp extended from the hull to the deck of the warrior's ship and, one by one, the able-bodied Goddess warriors loaded their wounded onto their own vessel. They went about their duties methodically and quickly, and were ready to disembark in less than an hour. Somehow, she felt cheated.

_I didn't even get to talk with any of them, _she thought, then scowled at herself for being silly. She couldn't have spoken with any of them, stumping around like a zombie for the last few days, prone to freaking out at random intervals. Vincent had said it was an effect of the Mako poisoning. Or, maybe it was just a symptom of an eighteen-year-old who had lost her mother and uncle, died, come back to life, and found out she had to save the world. Regardless, no one wanted to talk to her, and Shou was downright afraid of her, skirting to the side whenever they passed each other. Yet, to her astonishment, someone called her name from below. Gendai paced the length of the deck. Eventually he tilted his head skyward.

The strong urge to duck behind one of the sails overwhelmed her, but she stayed out of stubborn pride. She hooked a leg over the beam and slid down the mast, spiraling as she went, before landing gracefully on the deck. Gendai dug in his pocket and withdrew a pink ribbon.

"Hey," he said, a bit awkwardly. "This was Mast-, er, this was your uncle's. I think he'd want you to have it."

She shrugged and let him tie it around her left arm. When he finished, he offered her a small, empathic smile. "Surprised I got you to stand still."

She folded her arms across her breast and leaned against the mast, ignoring him. Gendai jerked his thumb at his ship. "I just wanted you to know, we're headed northwest, to Corel. If…" He paused, searching her face for signs that she was listening. "If you're looking for home, that's where we'll be. Your dad's there, along with Seth and the rest of the town."

Iris raised her head. Corel was across the ocean. Why had they migrated so far from Solstice? Gendai noticed her concern, but one of the warriors on the ship called to him, straining over the wind, which had begun to howl.

"Master Gendai! The storm will be on us soon!"

"Coming!" he called back. He spoke rapidly, "Look, I've updated everyone on the situation. The oceans and anything below the equator are best. It's not safe to go north anymore. You should ask your friends to fill you in. It's too long for me to explain now, and I have to lead them." He swept his arm in the direction of the ship, before stepping back, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't know how you survived, but it's a miracle. Take care, Iris. I hope we'll see you again."

He bowed, but she did not return it, struck by the information he had told her. He strode over the ramp and boarded the other ship, Iris watching him go with a perturbed expression on her face. Kai, Ten, Amon, and Shou went up on deck to see them off. Vincent, the only one absent, had shut himself up in the core room after their last meeting, and hadn't emerged since. The warriors' ship turned slowly and sailed for the horizon, hastened by the wind. The ship disappeared as the waves began to rise and fall, whitecaps barreling into the sides of the Chameleon.

"All right!" Kai shouted as the first drops of rain pattered against their skin. "We've got a storm to get through. Look lively, people!"

The skies went from gray to black alarmingly fast. The ocean churned and undulated, sending great, rolling breakers in their direction. Iris watched her friends raise the sails, fighting against the wind and the rain to secure the ropes. The first bolts of lightning streaked across the sky, followed quickly by eardrum-rattling peals of thunder. She lifted the main hatch and waited for them to scramble inside, their clothing soaked through and their armor dripping.

"You know some help would've been nice," Amon told her as he walked by, wringing out his black sleeveless shirt.

"Sorry?" She shrugged, and made her way to the galley, where she found Shou fighting to retain his rice in his bowl as the ship bucked. When he saw her, he looked as if a wolf had wandered into the kitchen.

Iris sat down with a little extra force than she meant to, shaking the table. She said to him, "I'm not going to bite you, you know. You'd better grab a seat; it's looking ugly up there."

Shou glanced at the exit, then continued to eat his rice with his chopsticks. He picked at his food nervously, raising only a few grains to his mouth at a time. Iris reached out and put a hand on his. The ship keeled sickeningly to the right, rattling the pots and pans in the cabinets, but her grip helped steady him. She said, "I'm sorry if I scared you, Shou. I didn't mean to."

The boy's ears lowered. He muttered to his rice bowl, "Yeah, it's okay. You were sick." He looked up at her. "You're better now though, right? My treatments helped?"

Her eyes lit up with a genuine smile. "Yeah, they did. Thanks Shou."

"You're wel-URK!" The boy shut his eyes and gripped the table as the ship practically threw him out of his seat. The rice bowl went flying, but Iris snatched it out of the air with a quick hand. The chopsticks she couldn't help, and they sailed across the room and hit the wall behind her. Shou laughed nervously as he clung to the table.

"It'll be all right," Iris said, patting his back. "We're sinking."

"WHAT?" he gasped, and inhaled a stray rice kernel. As he coughed mightily, Iris rubbed his back. He gagged once and sat up, wide-eyed. "Seriously, what's going on?"

"I said, we're sinking," she repeated, with a wicked grin. "Didn't you know that the Chameleon doubles as a submarine?"

Sure enough, while Shou was doubting Iris's newfound sanity, in the control room Kai and Ten were busily typing commands. The computer lowered the masts on the deck, which folded neatly into place like a child's toy. The deck flattened into a blank surface. From the sides, curved, metal paneling stretched across the deck, forming an oval dome, and extended below, encasing the bottom half the ship in a steel air bubble. Ten watched a diagram of the Chameleon as it morphed into something else. Water flooded the makeshift ballast tank, until the Chameleon gained density and sank below the turbulent surface. No longer pummeled by waves, the ship/submarine sat as still as a stone.

The ship's radar, a large, round panel above the controls and computer screens, faded to black, then dark blue light filtered through as the radar panel went transparent. Bubbles rose in columns across the glass. The dark, elongated body of a fish or two swam by, completely oblivious to the storm raging above them.

"Damn, I'm really starting to love this ship," Ten sighed, easing back into his chair and admiring the view. Kai looked over at his fascinated face, grinning her slightly crooked, Cheshire-cat smile.

"Bet you're really glad Amon sprung me from that cell, now."

"Don't push it," Ten grumbled, watching the numbers on the computer screen, checking the water levels and air pressure. "There anything else she can turn into? A tank would be nice."

"Oh, she's full of surprises," Kai said cryptically, patting the control panel with affection. The computer flashed a green message, telling her the ship had stabilized at a safe depth underwater. Stretching, trying to loosen a kink in her back, Kai stood and nodded towards the galley. "Now, how about that rum?"

Iris left Shou to finish his rice, and headed for the barracks. She climbed into one of the upper bunks and lay there, staring at the ceiling for a long while. Vincent's story created its own storm inside her head, and she fought against the waves of anxiety that poured through her body. Reaching into her pocket, she grasped the silver materia and took it out, rolling the stone between her fingers like a stress ball. She was beginning to find comfort in its weight. How she had clung to the orb when her clothes and other materia had been ripped off of her, she didn't know. Perhaps she had scraped it off the floor of the tidal pool on Mideel, on her way up to the surface…

Amon came in about an hour later, yawning, and lay in the bunk beneath her. _Would it be too much to ask for some privacy?_ Iris thought. She tucked the materia into her pocket and rolled over onto her side, which let Amon know she was awake.

His voice beneath her said, "Do you really not remember?"

"Remember what?" she asked, trying to sound tired, though she felt wide awake.

"The chocobo chick that got hit by the wagon."

When she did didn't reply, he went on, "It was just a C-rank, nothing special. It even had a boring name, something like 'Daisy' or 'Sunny'. I think it was Daisy, but whatever. It got out of the corrals and wandered into the road. Mr. Chang was headed into town with his wagon, that big purple and red gypsy thing, and the chick got caught beneath the wheels. We were about eight or so. We heard its squawking and went running into the road, and your mom and dad followed us. Your dad was going to put it out of its misery, 'cuz you know, the C-ranks don't really bring much value on the market, and times were tough. He couldn't afford to get it to a vet.

"But you were crying, and your mother took the chick in her arms before your dad could kill it. She brought it into the house. The chick was making all these noises, the most pitiful thing I've ever heard. It must've broken both its wings and its legs. We weren't allowed in the kitchen, but I spied for you from the living room. I remember a flash of teal light, like out of a Cure materia, and then I heard the chick start peeping again and your mother said something, I don't remember, but it was some kind of chant or lullaby."

"Wind, rain, snow and flame," Iris sang softly. "Bad weather and pain, all the same. Here today, gone again. The sun peeks from behind the clouds, the saplings grow mighty, their boughs stretch proud."

Amon smirked. "I knew you remembered."

Iris edged her way out of the bunk and lowered her feet to the ground. She turned to look down at Amon, who lay with his arms behind his head. "I remember everything," she said through tears that she refused show. "Even if I don't want to."

Before she could leave the barracks, he said, "You know, you're not the only one hurt by memories. Vincent hasn't come out of the engine room. You should go talk to him."

She spun around. "Not until you tell me what's going on. Why is everyone at Corel? What's happened?"

"It's like Vincent said," Amon told her, propping himself up on his mechanical arm. "The Cetra came back. Their barrier expanded and ate up the lands to the north of Junon. The rest of the warriors, the ones who didn't head to Mideel, led Solstice to the ocean, and they sailed west."

"Shit." Iris shuddered, rubbing her arms. She licked her lips, which had gone dry thanks to the ship's filtered air, and asked, "What's beyond the barrier?"

"Nobody knows," he said darkly. "But everyone's heading west. Even Zenith, the WRO, Z.I. The unlucky ones who didn't make it out in time, or couldn't move, they got left behind."

She tried not to think about that "'It isn't safe up north.' That's what Gendai said," she repeated under her breath.

"Nowhere's safe, when you think about it," he said.

"We can't stay under the sea forever."

"Go talk to Vincent," Amon repeated, lying back onto his pillow. "He knows someone who might be able to help you."

Iris grunted her doubt, but she turned and left the barracks, heading for the engine room. She didn't see Vincent at first as she entered the rounded chamber, distracted by the metal sphere and pumps that turned and churned out power to the different parts of the ship. She walked around the core, until she found him, sitting on a wide pipe and listening to the hum of the ship's workings. Or she found part of him, as he had submerged himself in the darkness cast by the machinery.

"Vincent?"

Two yellow eyes focused on her from the shadows. She put her hands on her hips. "Come on, Vincent. I know you can hear-"

"LEAVE ME," someone growled in a harsh, guttural voice that was definitely not Vincent's. She took a step forward, her senses attuned to any movement. She heard ragged breathing, drawn from inhuman lungs. The thing's dark body gave off a strong heat, like a furnace.

"Um," Iris tried again, keeping her voice steady, "I don't know who this is, but I really need to talk to Vincent."

The thing lowered a hand to lift itself, and she saw a set of long claws as they gripped the pipe. She had the feeling it was crouching, readying itself to spring on her.

"Look," she said, her voice growing shakier by the second, "i-if you value your existence at all, you'll give him back. I don't know what happened to him, but I do know the world is in danger, and I need his help." The thing laughed maliciously and she heard its body scrape against metal, felt the heat grow in intensity. The darkness spanned out as two large wings stretched. A few seconds more, and the demon would swoop down on her.

She threw out her one and only bargaining chip. "If he dies, you'll die too!"

The thing fell silent at that. It drew another sharp, rattling breath. It let out a hiss, like a jet of steam, and stirred from its spot in the shadows. She jumped back, readying herself for a fight, but instead there was a burning flash of crimson light, the acrid smell of sulfur, and then something fell from above. Vincent's cape fluttered behind him as he landed on all fours, and struggled to stand. She tried to help him by grabbing one of his arms, but he pulled away from her, clutching at his own chest, wheezing.

"Leave…me alone," he croaked, fighting for breath as he grappled with something inside himself. "I'm…still dangerous."

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" Iris snapped. "The world's about to end, and you're in here hiding! You think I care if you're dangerous?"

"Don't…want…to hurt anyone," he growled, and began to crawl back into the shadows. "Least of all, you."

"Fine! Be that way." Iris threw up her hands in defeat. He glared at her, and for a second she caught a glimpse of the demonic presence that had been up in the pipes a few moments ago. He crawled back out, slowly, and clung to a metal box as he brought himself to his feet.

"What is it, Iris?"

She said, "Amon said you knew someone that could…help me. And we don't know where to go next. Can you take us to him?"

"He's dead. They're all dead." Vincent rested his forehead against the metal box.

"I'm alive," she urged him. "Ten, Kai, Amon, and Shou are all alive. Doesn't that matter to you at all? Or do you only care about dead people?"

He approached her suddenly, until she was forced to look up into his red eyes, at his black hair and pale face, so cleverly hidden by the headband and the cape. Much of him was hidden, she thought, in swaths of black and red, in the way his hair curtained his face. Why did he hide when the world once thought of him as a hero?

"Forgive me," he said at last, bowing his head. "It's just…whenever I look at you, I see them."

Iris swallowed. "You mean, Cloud and Tifa?"

He nodded. "You are an exact combination of the two. It's like looking at a ghost."

She didn't know how to take that. But she had a goal, and she was going to get an answer out of him, one way or another. She reached into her pocket and grasped the materia for support.

"I have to know how to defeat the Cetra," she said. "Someone's got to translate the last lines of the prophecy."

"You're saying you believe?" he asked, tilting his head to one side.

"Let's not go that far." She smirked wryly. "I'm just saying I could use some advice. If the scroll is as old as you claim, then it's got to have some ancient secret hidden away in those last lines. We've gotta fight fire with fire, ancient against ancient."

"Tell me, then," he said, sweeping his cape out from behind him and folding it around himself, not unlike a bat. "Is Cosmo Canyon still here?"

* * *

><p>Acacius smelled rain in the air. It wasn't the season for the great storms that hit their tiny island near Mideel; monsoons that ripped up trees and flooded unprepared towns with rivers of mud. His friends, the other boys of the village, didn't seem to think much of it. So what if the weather was acting strangely? More rain meant cooler temperatures, and the gods knew they were in need of a break from the relentless sun. But the wind was definitely picking up, and those were definitely black monsoon clouds on the horizon.<p>

_Grandma was right_, the boy thought as he carried a bushel of firewood out of the jungle, skirting the shore trail back to his village, Zardiel. His grandma, somewhat of the resident fortune teller, had predicted the monsoon not but a week ago. Grandma would be upset if she knew how far out he'd ventured to find good firewood.

Acacius took care to double his step, knowing that some of the jungle's nastier inhabitants would be riled up once they caught the scent of the rain. A pod of Crysales caterpillars sensed his presence, scuttling silently into the underbrush. Acacius was thankful they were not fully grown, as a pod of adults was more likely to attack a boy on his own. Still, they were nowhere near as bad as their cousins, the vicious Head Hunter insects. To his left, the waves crashed violently onto the beach. About fifty feet out, he spotted a Sea Worm as it looped through the waves, its long, tube-shaped body undulating like a snake's.

_Probably feeding on confused fish_. Of all the creatures on Zardiel, he hated the Sea Worm the most, because they were opportunistic eaters, consuming anything and everything that had blood and a set of intestines. That great, vacuum of a mouth with its razor-sharp halo of teeth would have no trouble swallowing him whole. He hurried along, the large bundle of branches and logs on his back bouncing as he went.

It began to rain. At length he came to a wooden bridge suspended on ropes, which crossed a rather shallow hot spring. About fifteen feet below him, steam rose out of murky, bubbling water. As the rain struck the boiling water, the steam formed a wall of fog. He crossed the bridge slowly, careful to avoid a misstep, as he could barely see in front of his own nose. The damp ropes swayed and the slippery floorboards creaked, and he was forced to pause in the middle of the bridge, waiting for it to steady, before continuing. Once on the other side, the trail dipped sharply, flattening out at sea level.

Now came the part Acacius had been anxious about. A small inlet flowed into the ocean, and where the two bodies of water met, the waves were fearfully violent, sending up gouts of sea spray. He selected the thinnest, shallowest section of the inlet and trudged in up to his knees. The water was warm and foamy against his bare shins. It sucked past him, drawn out by the irresistible pull of the ocean.

His father had taught him how to cross such streams properly—go at an angle facing the current, take small, careful steps, use the arms to balance. He heeded the technique, and made it to the other side and shook out his sore legs. Lightning licked the skies, thunder chasing close behind. The rain intensified, soaking his shorts and t-shirt, along with the firewood. He set the bundle down with a groan. Bringing back unusable firewood had not been part of his plan. He adjusted the ropes and lifted the rain-soaked wood onto his back, cursing under his breath at the added weight.

_Hope no one else was as far out as me today,_ he thought, looking back over his shoulder at the swiftly-rising water. He was about to face forward again, when a sight nearly made his blood curdle. A person, or the body of a person, floated down the inlet, tumbling and bobbing above the surface before sinking below. Acacius dropped his load of firewood and ran downstream, splashing into the water up to his waist. The current had gone from demanding to relentless in seconds, and he fought to keep his balance as he waded out towards the man. He was careful not to move too fast, knowing one slip and he could be pulled under.

The body drifted towards him rapidly, would pass him in another second—he had to time it right, or else they would slip through his fingers. He watched, waited, and reached, grasping a long, pale arm with a slapping sound. Being only fifteen years old, but of a sturdy body type, the boy gritted his teeth as he fought for the person's deadweight against the harsh current. He put all his weight into his legs and pulled, pulled, pulled. All the while, the water rose higher and higher. It would be up to his neck in another thirty seconds.

Using the last ounce of his strength, Acacius dragged the body onto dry sand. He had no time to rest, knowing the inlet would only expand, swallowing the patch of earth they currently occupied. He looked down, and saw the body of a young man, maybe twenty years old, without a stitch of clothing on. He grabbed onto the man's wrists and dragged him away from the water. The muscles in his back were aching by the time he reached a safe distance away.

From somewhere above him, a hippogriff trilled its musical _kreeeee kreeeee_. He wasn't fooled by its songbird cry, knowing more than one villager who had at least a few scars from dealing with the temperamental creatures. He couldn't risk being spotted, and so he dragged the man into the bushes, until they were under the cover of a large fern. He knelt by the man's mouth, and felt warm air against his ear.

_He's alive._ Acacius stood, noting the man's chest, which rose and fell peacefully, for someone who had almost been swallowed by the ocean. He was most certainly a foreigner, with pale skin like that—everyone on Zardiel was tan. And gods, that long, gray hair, the silver eyebrows…what sort of mainlander, weird trend was that? Even weirder, the man had no signs of injury, and looked like he was built to withstand anything. What was somebody so strong doing naked and helpless in the water? He suddenly felt very afraid of this stranger, and was glad none of his friends were with him. He backed away, retreating to the trail. He made sure the man wasn't visible from the road. Zardielites all had an innate distrust of outsiders, and the same went for the boy as he hoisted the firewood onto his back and ran for his village. The man would have to stay there until he could find some help.

Not a soul was out as he reached the village, which was built in a large clearing in the middle of the jungle. The westward portion overlooked about a mile stretch of the island, and beyond, the ocean. As he reached his family's three-roomed hut, which sat on a thick pair of stilts, his father was waiting for him in the doorway.

"Acacius!" he yelled, partly out of anger, and partly because of the storm. "Where have you been? Get inside!"

The boy obeyed, dropping off the firewood by the door as his father shut and latched it. His mother and two sisters were resting on the wicker furniture, their couch a gourd-shaped hammock which hung from a rafter on their ceiling. His mother looked up from her stitching to give him a disappointed look.

"Well, young man?" she asked, her needles clicking together. "You know better than to wander off on the shoreline trail. Explain yourself."

"I brought firewood," he answered lamely, pointing to the wet bundle.

His father huffed, growing red in the face, which was slightly scary, considering he was at least three shades tanner than him. "That should have taken you twenty minutes. You were gone for three hours! Were you at the cove again? How many times have I told you to stay away from there, it's crawling with Sea Worms!"

"That's where all the good driftwood washes up, papa," Acacius argued. His father growled something under his breath, and it was then the boy remembered what else he had found besides firewood.

"Dad! I have to tell you something, it's really important. You'll never believe it."

"This had better be good, Acacius…" His father sighed, and his two sisters giggled to one another. His mother continued stitching, but kept one eye on the exchange, in case her divine intervention was needed. Outside, the storm raged. Wind and rain slammed against their small home, but it had seen some bad times, and it would likely see worse to come.

* * *

><p>Acacius's grandma stood in the family garden, up to her round, potato-bud nose in vines. She cut several herbs and placed them in the wicker basket by her feet. Grandma Flori was a short woman, more cracked than wrinkled, who kept her gray hair in a long braid and refused to cut it, and who had eyes so deeply slanted that her grandchildren often wondered if she could see at all. She wore a simple blue cotton dress, which stretched down to her ankles, and a white apron across her considerable belly and bosom. Her skin was the color of river clay, a deep, reddish brown, mottled here and there with dark freckles. She had a kindly face, quick to offer a smile that was mostly gums, and long, willowy fingers perfect for gardening and snatching the ears of misbehaving children.<p>

A stray branch from a nearby bush scratched against her face for the tenth time in the last five minutes. She lowered her shears in annoyance and snipped at the branch, but it was firm and wouldn't cut. She pressed harder, twisting, pressed too hard. The shears slipped from her fingers and fell into two pieces on the ground.

_Don't know my own strength,_ she thought, chortling aloud. Grandma Flori set down the basket of herbs she had been collecting and surveyed the damage the storm had caused to their modest garden plot. Aside from a few flooded rows of rice, and a few downed trees that would have to be chopped up and removed, the gods had spared them. From behind her, Acacius grumbled and ripped up weeds, complaining about 'women's work' and vociferating that he had been telling the truth about the man. She felt a twinge of pity for the boy. When the storm abated, her son and grandson, along with two other village men, had gone to the spot where the boy claimed to have saved a stranger from drowning.

The body was never found, and the rain had washed away any sign of the boy's struggle. She turned to her grandson now, holding up her basket.

"Ho, Acacius!" she said, in an earthy, singsong voice. "Take this basket in for me, will you? Help yourself to some juice while you're in there. And bring me the spare set of shears."

Acacius made sure she wasn't looking before he stuck out his tongue. His grandma's prune juice was good for one thing, and it wasn't the taste. He took the basket from her and took his grand old time tromping back to the hut. His sisters, Mai and Acantha, had left with their mother to sell some fabric at the small market in the town square. His father was off on a two-day fishing trip with some of the other fishermen.

The old crone bent at the waist, reaching for the broken shears. "Hmmm," she mumbled, patting the ground in front of her. No shears, not on the ground, and not in her pockets, either. If a pesky gnome had made off with another set of gardening supplies, she was going to officially retire as the family gardener. She blew out a huff of air and inched forward, checking under some fruit bushes just beyond the herbs plot.

A bird took off suddenly with an offended chirp. She glanced up, and saw a pair of human feet, followed by two pale, marbled shins, the skin waxen and hairless. _What in Hades?_ Grandma Flori rose to her full height, and found herself facing the flat, muscular abdomen of a tall man (gigantic to her, who just barely cleared five feet). She looked up, into two vibrant, teal irises set into clever, catlike eyes, partly covered by choppy, long silver bangs that extended past his chin. Hair even longer than hers fell past his broad shoulders, all the way down to his trim waist.

With a flush that made her feel young again, she averted her gaze from traveling farther south, though not exactly out of manners. Her attention had been called to his hands. He grasped the two halves of the garden shears, his long, bony fingers fiddling with the tiny spring that held them together. The man had a calm, placid expression on his face as he concentrated on putting the two halves back together. The old woman remained still, watching, until the two pieces clicked together and he opened and closed the shears, evidently fascinated with how they worked.

For a single moment, she wondered if a Faeling from her childhood storybooks had wandered into her little Eden, and she thought airily, _But I don't have any iron…_

Then she came to her senses, and reached out a tentative hand and took the shears from him. He was reluctant to let go, but she offered him a closed-mouth smile of assurance and his grip relaxed.

"Thank you," she said, pocketing the shears. With nothing to hold, the young man resorted to clasping his hands together, in a humble posture that contrasted sharply against his regal, angelic features.

"I'm sorry," he said, in a deep, fluid voice, enunciating each word with careful precision. "But could you please tell me where I am? I seem to be lost."

She pitied him then, as he didn't seem to have the slightest inkling that he was a complete stranger, standing naked in a garden on a mostly-isolated island in the southeastern isles. She watched him stand there, surveying the garden and the back of the hut, as if seeing the world for the first time. No, he was no threat to her.

"Come on, then," she said at last. "Let's get you some clothes."

She beckoned him to come forward. As he stepped out from behind the bushes, Acacius hopped down from the back entrance to the hut, dropping the shears he'd been carrying. He eyed the man once before a slow, wide grin spread across his face.

"I TOLD you!" Acacius laughed, pumping a fist in the air.

Grandma Flori snapped, "Shut your clam hole and go get some of your father's clothes!"

"All right, sheesh. Hold on."

The old crone sighed as her grandson darted into the hut. They would never hear the end of this one. She took the stranger by the hand, her small one encased in his, and led him towards the door. She rattled the doorknob, then shoved her shoulder against the door, grumbling about the hinges being swollen from the rainwater. The man reached out and pushed it open for her easily.

"We-ellll," she drawled. "About time we had a gentleman living on this rock! Thank you again." She tottered past him into the hut, where she took off her apron and went into another room. The man lingered at the entrance to the house, one arm bracing the door open. His gaze traveled down the garden, beyond the jungle, far out to sea. His brow furrowed for a moment, struggling with a memory that refused to take form. The hand that grasped the door handle tightened, rattling the small brass knob, but before he could crush it, his grip loosened and his hand drifted back down to his side. Then he blinked once and shut the door behind him.

* * *

><p>(AN: Sorry fangirls, naked Sephiroth now belongs to an old lady. *all the fangirls in the world commit mass suicide*

And Grandma Flori totally isn't the grandma from Mulan with a tan...definitely not. Nope. Okay, maybe a little. She certainly is spunky. And lucky...*sigh*

Ahem. Sephiroth is alive! You may all turn up One Winged Angel and dance about your rooms, public library, or wherever you happen to be reading this.

More to come soon! If you're a newcomer, won't you spare some of your valuable input? Please sir? *rattles a tin can full of reviews*)


	24. Mercer's Announcement

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 24: Mercer's Announcement

The following night couldn't have possibly been more different from the previous one, Iris thought, as she stared up at thousands and thousands of stars. The sky was practically blue with celestial light, casting a wintry sheen on the tips of the waves. A bittersweet longing rose up in her throat. Mother had often stargazed, naming the different constellations, divining based on the alignment of the planets, the positioning of the stars. But recalling such memories made her heart hurt, and her head began to pound. She scrambled for another thought, something, anything…

She sucked in the night air, swallowing the sob that threatened to emerge. Somewhere below, she heard the hissing spray of the waves. It was a relief to be on the ocean's surface again. She had felt claustrophobic when Amon had brought her into the control room to show her the window view—instead of something wondrous, she only thought of the innumerable tons of water above them, and nothing but dark blue ocean as far as she could see. Kai had brought the Chameleon up earlier to get some sunlight into the sails, which would help convert energy for the ship. They could be at Cosmo Canyon within two weeks, if they didn't run into any delays. Iris had heard stories of a vast desert, great red rocks that jutted out of the ground and formed natural bridges, places where the earth crumbled away into black voids. Yet despite the harsh climate, on the edge of a plateau, a town prospered, seemingly protected from the evils of modern man. And it had been the birthplace of AVALANCHE…

"You shouldn't spend so much time by yourself," Vincent interrupted her thoughts, approaching from the hatch near the back of the deck. If he hadn't been so far away, she probably would have jumped.

How was it that he was so talented at sneaking up on people? "You're one to talk," she scowled.

The shapeshifter stood by her side at a safe distance, staring up at the moon. The dark circles under his eyes had vanished somewhat, and she saw nothing of his old wounds from Mideel. She guessed he healed quickly, thanks to his immortal genes. Or perhaps he had seen Shou during his free time—the boy was nothing short of a miracle worker.

"Well?" she asked, when he didn't acknowledge her comment. "What was that creature in the engine room? I thought it was going to kill me."

"That was Chaos," he growled, tapping his clawed hand against the gunwale. "He has been demanding to come out, so I let him, thinking no one would find me there. I was mistaken…"

"Damn right you were," she huffed, a chill racking down her spine. It wasn't every day one dealt with demons, after all. "I thought after the Omega crisis you'd been cured."

"So did I," he admitted, shifting a tad uncomfortably on his feet.

She turned to face him, but he continued to stare at the water. "Was it something the Black Wings did to you?" she asked. "Maybe something while they had you as their prisoner?"

"No, nothing like that," he replied, raising a hand to his heart absentmindedly. "The protomateria is still inside me, a substance that helped me control the Chaos gene. But during times of intense emotional stress …well, it's best that I not be around anyone when that happens."

"You're on a ship," she said, with a sharp cut of her hand towards the deck. "It's kinda hard to isolate yourself. You can't just run into the woods or…or seal yourself up in a cave, or whatever."

Vincent chuckled darkly at that. Iris bristled, and mimicked his laugh with more than a few drops of sarcasm. "Oh yeah, really funny! I thought you—it—was gonna kill me back in the boiler room! You should put up a 'do not disturb, possessed by the devil' sign the next time that demon-"

"Shut up," he hissed suddenly, and in three quick, gravity-defying leaps he was up in the rigging, hidden by the sails.

"Vincent? Shit!" She slammed her fist against the metal banister. A thrill of anxiety ran through her, and she listened intently and searched the darkness. She said, a might more quietly, "What is it?"

He didn't reply. No movement on the ocean. She looked over the other side of the deck, at the same black, silvery waves that seemed to dance, and the moon above, as large and white as a clean dinner plate. All was silent and peaceful. Perhaps Vincent had been mistaken? She jogged back to her original spot and called out Vincent's name. Still no response.

Was he undergoing another transformation? Unlikely. He hadn't seemed distressed at all. Sure enough, as a breeze picked up, flapping the sails aside, she watched his red cape billow in the wind as a black form crawled to the crow's nest. He pointed to the north, where the starred tip of Odin's lance glinted, and Iris ran to the opposite side of the deck, beginning to feel like a ping-pong ball. Her mouth fell open into a gape as she watched a massive sphere of neon light move under the surface of the water, headed directly towards the ship.

The object moved so quickly, neither of them had time to react as it passed beneath the Chameleon. Nothing happened at first, then the ship shuddered, vibrating beneath Iris's feet. She spun around, and the blob of light surfaced. Ten and Kai, feeling the tremors, had run onto the deck, followed quickly by Amon, who was dressed only in a pair of sweatpants. The three of them shielded their eyes instantly, swearing in surprise. As Iris's eyes adjusted, she saw a great, spiraling shape, not unlike a conch shell, rise out of the water, easily three times the length of their ship. It was made (built?) of crystals of iridescent light. To look upon it was to look upon the aurora lights up north, but far brighter beyond comparison. Attached to the rungs of each spiral were long spokes, like the pinions on a bird of prey. It consisted of two shells, the outer one rotating, while the inner one pulsated with teal energy in some kind of liquid sac. Water flowed between the gaps in the rungs as its outer shell revolved, staying mobile in the water through some kind of bizarre propulsion system.

_Is it alive or a machine?_ Iris thought, torn between wonder and fear.

"What the flying fuck is that thing? A sea monster?" Amon bellowed, extending his arm blade in a flash. They all turned to Kai, but she shook her head, her scimitar drawn.

"I've never seen anything like it," she said, her features turned to icy stone. She aimed the tip of her scimitar at the spiraling hub of light, and the Sense materia on the hilt of her sword glowed yellow. The pirate captain nodded and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "It's alive, I can tell you that. And it has tremendous energy."

Vincent roared from his spot in the crow's nest, "Watch out!"

The spokes turned faster, the round, rotating mouth of it aiming upward. A dozen smaller, faster oval-shaped lights shot out of it, splitting into two groups six. As they darted towards the ship, Iris saw fins. The bodies of the attackers were shaped crudely like fish, but only in the manner of the dorsal fins that helped them move. The rest of the bodies consisted of the same crystal that the hub was made of. They were so bright, so agile, that they left trails of light behind them, the way a sparkler will leave a trail if one waves it fast enough.

Her precious ship under attack, Kai was instantly all orders, any trace of her nonchalant nature gone.

"Ten and Amon, you come with me and cover this end. Iris and Vincent, toward the prow!" she barked, not flinching as one of the fish shot a bolt of blue energy directly over her shoulder. The projectile collided with the floor behind her, angling like a laser before bouncing into the atmosphere. Amon and Ten went with her to the rear of the ship. On her way to the front, Iris ducked as one of the creatures flew overhead, its body crackling with electricity. The hairs on her neck stood up from the near-close encounter.

"Shit, they're fast!" she said through clenched teeth.

"Iris, move!" Vincent warned.

She pinwheeled to the side as another fish blasted the air where she had been standing, firing the same energy beam. Only this time, instead of reflecting off the metal of the ship, it ate into the floor, forming a hole the size of her head. Vincent dove down from the crow's nest, his cape flapping like the wings of a great red bird. Cerberus boomed as he shot the fish, hitting it dead-on. The bullets passed right through it and thudded into the floor.

_Not good, _Iris thought. They were doing more harm to the Chameleon than the fish. Another two ganged up on her, their energy beams swarming her like angry bees. She narrowly evaded each, remembering the session with the lasers back at Zenith. Running up to the closest one, she swung her foot at the creature's face. As her heel collided with its body, a horrible pain, like an electric shock, racked the muscles of her leg. The fish blasted again, but she sprang into a wide backflip, landing a safer distance away.

"Weapons do nothing!" she yelled to Vincent, who was jumping and gliding through the air, keeping the creatures away from the sails.

"Use your magic!" he cried, and aimed a well-placed Lightning spell at one of them. The bolt struck something critical inside the fish's workings, and it merged with the light inside of it for a second before the creature shattered into thousands of bright shards.

"All right," Iris said under her breath, and took aim. Concentrating, breathing deeply, she pooled energy into her core and fed it into the materia. Power built up, sending forth green, rippling waves of energy from her body, before the magic burst from her fingertips. The ice cloud enveloped another fish, freezing and disintegrating it. Her body filled with cold, and she felt significantly more tired than she had a second ago. The crack-hiss to her right had her turn her head at the last second, to see Vincent's Lighting send another enemy careening into the ocean.

Off to her left, the giant shell/ship organism surfaced, this time aiming its vortex opening out of the water. It hovered closer to the Chameleon, and she heard the hum of magical energy being gathered. A dangerous amount of energy, from the all the sound and light.

"Aw shit, that's not good!" Ten cried. "Looks like it's readying to fire! Why aren't we moving?"

"Not yet!" Kai barked, and grabbed a rope and swung towards middle deck, wrapping around one of the masts to gain momentum. Another fish imploded as her Fire spell sparked in the night. She aimed a blast at the glowing, spiraling vessel, but it missed by inches, evaporating instantly in the water. The energy mass inside the alien ship grew larger and brighter still. The alien ship sensed it was under attack and began to sink back down into the ocean, turning the water neon.

"Everyone take out the big one! Hurry!" Kai yelled. Amon fought off another fish creature, sizzling it with a quick Lightning spell. He ran towards the center of the ship and began to power up, breathing heavily. Ten took care of two more of the smaller creatures, but a third aimed its energy beam at him and fired at close range. He lunged out of the way; the beam struck the floor of the ship, eating right through the deck and exploding the machinery below. Oily, acrid-smelling black smoke leaked out of the hole in the floor.

"Fire now!" Kai ordered. She, Amon, and Iris released a volley of spells, casting Fire, Ice, and Lightning, but the craft sank deeper into the water and was out of their reach. The rest of the fish swirled away from the Chameleon, fleeing back into the water.

"No you don't, you bastard," Amon growled, his Fire spell exploding one.

"What are you doing? Save your MP!" Kai shouted. He gave her a chastised look and lowered his cybernetic arm.

"What for?"

"Decoys," Vincent answered, watching the fish return to their mothership.

Beneath the water, the alien ship's energy bubble pulsed, about to burst. Kai lifted her wrist and spoke into a bracelet communicator. "Shou! Full speed ahead!"

Nothing happened at first, then the Chameleon's thrusters kicked in, sending them forward violently. The prow lifted almost completely out of the water, and Amon and Ten were thrown off their feet as the ship bucked back. The alien vessel grew smaller and smaller, until it vanished out of their line of sight, and out of its line of fire.

"Bastards really did a number on the ship," Amon said, surveying the damage, the wind blowing his hair back.

"She's seen worse. But still, this is pretty bad," Kai sighed. She removed her green hair bandana and rubbed her forehead beneath her bangs. She knelt to examine the worst of the holes in the deck, Amon standing next to her.

"Looks like we got away," Ten said, sitting down on a crate that was bolted to the floor.

"Fancy that," Amon said over his shoulder. Vincent said nothing, one hand clutching a rope, the other dangling by his gun holster. He watched the horizon silently, and he wasn't the only one.

"If that's true," Iris said uncertainly, never taking her eyes off the horizon, "then why are the hairs on the back of my neck standing up?"

They didn't know what to say to that. Perhaps, she thought worriedly, they still believed she was affected by the Mako. But then the bracelet on Kai's wrist crackled, and Shou's panicked voice shrieked, "IT'S FIRING!"

Kai looked back in the direction of the alien ship, just in time to see a great dome of emerald light explode, sending a massive ray of destructive energy in their direction, bright and scalding as desert sunlight.

"Hit the deck!" she cried, and they flattened themselves to the floor and braced for impact. The ship peeled to the right, then banked left, and Iris realized Shou was zigzagging, trying to avoid the missile. It chased them, coming closer and closer every second, until she was jarred off the floor as the beam struck the ship's left side. They were thrown across the deck, and Amon let out a surprised yip as he was tossed overboard.

"Amon!" Iris yelled, and thought she was hearing double, until she realized that Kai had yelled at the exact same time.

"Man overboard! Cut the thrusters!" Kai ordered into her communicator. "Bring her around, starboard, 180 degrees."

"Yes captain!" Shou piped, and the ship slowed and began to turn. Kai watched the waters with a cool, calm expression on her face. Iris bounced on the balls of her feet and called Amon's name.

"I don't see him," Vincent said, peering back in the ship's wake.

"That's because he can't swim!" Iris grabbed a lifeline and ran to the back, preparing to jump in. But Kai was swifter, and she dove into the water, her body barely making a splash as she cut the surface. Iris watched her swim over to the spot where he fell. The pirate captain disappeared underwater. Shou slowly brought the ship back around. When neither Kai nor Amon surfaced, Iris hesitated a moment, then, just as she was about to jump in after him, Ten's hand enclosed on her shoulder.

"Hold on, kid," he said. "Best you stay out of the water."

Iris ripped her shoulder from his grip, but she remained on the deck, a hollow cavity forming in the pit of her stomach. A few tense seconds later, Kai surfaced with a coughing, sputtering, waterlogged Amon.

"Tread the water," she instructed. "Like before. Use your legs too." He coughed up seawater, but managed to tread weakly.

"Since when do you swim?" Iris peered down at them.

Amon grinned up at her, then gave Kai a grateful nod. "I've had some lessons."

Iris scoffed, swallowing hard. "Just get your ass out of the water! I thought you'd drowned…"

Kai grasped his mechanical arm, helping him stay afloat, and caught the safety line that Iris tossed to her. Amon scaled his way up the ship. Kai followed him, but before she could hoist herself topside, the ship's thrusters kicked in again. She held on for dear life as the Chameleon charged ahead, ran along the side of the ship, and swung herself back onto the deck. She yelled into her communicator, "Gods damn it, Shou, did I order you to move again? You nearly tossed me back overboard!"

"I'm sorry Ka-, er, captain!" the boy squeaked. "But the radar detected another energy swell. I had to get us out of its range!"

She sighed, shaking her head. "All right. Stand by. I'll be coming down to reroute us in a moment."

They all joined Vincent, who was examining the damage caused by the missile on the left side of the ship. A lightning bolt-shaped rent had been cut into the upper part of the ship, where water poured in every time the ship bounced or the waves rose.

"Typhoon's wrath," Kai hissed, seething. She put her hands on her hips, grasping the hilt of her scimitar. Iris detected just the slightest tremor in the pirate's fingers, but no one else seemed to notice.

"We won't get far with that," Vincent told her. "Can it be repaired?"

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you all, she's a sophisticated craft," Kai said dryly. "But that means parts are hard to get. She can be repaired, but it'll take a long time. And we'll have to find the right shipyard—outside Zenith's jurisdiction."

"Good luck with that," Ten mumbled.

"So what now?" Iris asked.

Kai lowered her hands and dusted off her pants, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Now," she said, walking towards the hatch, "We find land, and fast. If you'll excuse me…"

"Wait a damn minute!" Ten exclaimed. "What were those things that attacked us? And that big submarine?"

"It wasn't a sub," Amon said. "Subs don't move that fast."

"It certainly wasn't manmade," Kai added, staring at the gaping hole in her ship. "And they looked like they were made of glass, yet when I struck one with my scimitar, it did this to my blade." She unsheathed her weapon and showed them a jagged notch in the otherwise flawless metal. "And this is Corellian steel, I might add."

Iris gripped a rope tightly and exchanged looks with Vincent, who seemed to be gauging her for a reaction. The others were too busy arguing about what they had seen to notice right away, but eventually Vincent spoke up.

"I think we just had our first encounter with the Cetra."

Ten coughed, and Amon swore. Kai's stare weighed on him heavily. "You're sure?" she asked.

"No," he answered honestly. "But there's nothing else it could be. Unless you believe in shanty tales."

"I do, as a matter of fact," Kai snapped. She kicked a piece of rubble. "But I also believe you."

"Iris?" Amon looked at her. "What do you think?"

"I think Vincent's right," she said, rubbing her right temple as a headache threatened. "And I think we better get to Cosmo Canyon, and fast."

They were forced to dock short of their goal, arriving at a seedy port about twenty miles from Gongaga. Kai paid to have the Chameleon repaired in the shipyard, but due to the ship's exotic nature, repairs would take at least a month. The pirate captain remarked that they were at least lucky that Zenith didn't know about the ship, and the owner didn't seem to ask too many questions (although Iris suspected a fair deal of bribing had gone on behind the scenes). Given the exorbitant fees they paid, and the fact that they were now forced to travel on foot, everyone's moods had taken a turn for the worse. They headed to the only bar nearby for a brief respite, thinking some good food and a drink would help improve morale. The bar was little more than a smoky den for sailors to grab a quick pint and bite of fried fish or greasy food (and if the scantily dressed women standing alley were any indication, other services could be obtained, one so desired). They opted to stick with food and drink.

Since they had escaped the Cetra at sea, Iris's grief had abated for the time being, and she had found her appetite again. She smelled steamed clams and her mouth began to water as they sat down at a booth by a soapy window overlooking the old cobblestone streets.

Amon picked up the single sheet of stained paper that was the menu. He licked his lips and looked up at Iris. "What do you think? Tempura platter?"

"Let's get one of everything," Iris said greedily, rubbing her stomach.

"We need to watch our spending," Ten cautioned, then eyed the beer menu, tugging on his goatee. "But I could go for a pint myself."

"Can I get one?" Shou asked, with bright and hopeful eyes.

"Hell no!" Ten said.

"Why not?" Amon said. "The kid's old enough to steer the ship, take care of the wounded…let him have a beer, for cryin' out loud."

"I said no," Ten growled, his shoulders stiffening. "And that's final. It ain't fit for a boy to drink. Not til he's sixteen."

"That's in two years…" Shou grumbled. A surly-looking bar wench with rather meaty forearms sauntered over to them and looked at him first. "I'll have a root beer," he said morosely.

"Ain't got soda pop here, kid," the bar wench said, in a voice that was surprisingly feminine despite her thickset body and dour face. "It's either booze or water."

"He'll have a water then," Ten said, with an air of finality. Shou's face reddened. Ten added, "And I'll have an ale."

Amon perked up. "A round of sake, for the three of us." He pointed to Iris and Kai.

"And for you, stud?" the bar wench turned to Vincent, eyeing him up and down.

"Nothing." He stared out the window. The bar wench's lips thinned and she turned around briskly, disappearing through a door behind the bar. A few minutes later, she came back out with a serving tray and handed them their drinks. Iris poured the sake while Ten took a sip out of an enormous glass. Iris tasted her sake and felt her lips pucker—it felt like eons since she had had a drink, and the alcohol warmed her blood, bringing color to her cheeks. She glanced at Amon, whose skin was too tan to tell, but his eyes seemed to get lazier and his grin wider.

"Check it out," he said, pointing to the flatscreen behind the bar. "Never woulda thought a dump like this'd have a TV."

A small crowd had gathered inside the bar, consisting of sailors and townspeople, and a few foreigners like themselves. The tiny bar became very noisy and claustrophobic, and the cigarette smoke made Shou rub his eyes. The station was set on NMNN, which had only a picture of the northern barrier along the eastern continent coastline, and a red news bar with headlines scrolling across. Iris caught the tail end of the last headliner, which read 'to make a global announcement at exactly 7 p.m., RTT (Rocket Town Time).' The clock in the corner of the screen said it was 6:57.

"Looks like there's going to be some sort of announcement," she said.

"This oughtta be good," Amon said, pouring himself another cup of sake. The waitress had brought an extra cup. While Ten was watching the screen with the others, Shou snatched Amon's glass out from under him and replaced it with the empty one. Amon looked down, then at Shou, then hissed at Ten. Shou's lips barely touched the cup before Ten snatched it from his fingers.

"You're not my father!" Shou snapped, his face scarlet.

"That may be," Ten uttered, pouring the sake on the floor, causing Amon to frown. "But you should be glad someone's lookin' out for your ass!" he flipped the cup over and slammed it on the table. Shou ducked, trapped in the booth by Kai and Ten, and darted out from under the table and into the crowd.

"I'll get him," Vincent said, standing up before the others could react. He vanished quickly in the throng, disappearing in the swift, odd manner of his.

"What's eatin' monkey boy?" Amon asked.

"Got some balls, tryin' to sneak booze right under my nose," Ten sighed, and gulped his beer.

"Um, guys," Iris said, pointing to the TV. "I think I know why he's upset."

President Mercer's face appeared on the screen, his dark eyes glowering at them, his hair parted and hanging loosely. He wore a burgundy suit with a black tie. Iris couldn't remember the last time she had seen him appear in public, let alone give a live speech. The crowd inside the bar fell into an almost reverent silence, with only a few of the more inebriated customers still slurring stupidly.

"People of Gaia," Mercer began, his stare unyielding, his body perfectly still. The backdrop behind him was the Zenith logo, a rising sun with the Z painted to look like the ripples of the ocean horizon. She had always thought of it as a setting sun. Her eyes locked on the screen, knowing the man she was looking at was entangled with her mother's death, with Sephiroth's near-return. Her fingers tightened around her cup.

Mercer said, "By now, most of you have all heard of the so-called phenomenon in the northeast. I assure you it is not a phenomenon, but is perfectly explainable by both the laws of physics and our own laws governing science and scientific exploration. Our experts have been working around the clock to analyze this barrier, which has overtaken our glorious capital. Some would consider this a crushing blow to the human race—and though we have no confirmation of survivors from the other side, I won't lie to you-"

"I think I'm going to faint," Amon sneered. Iris elbowed him in the ribs.

"-the situation is cause for swift, precise military action. If we wish to regain our lands, we must deal with the enemy head-on. There have been rumors that I planned to do nothing about this impending threat to our way of life. To which I say, take a look behind me."

The screen shifted, revealing a giant factory in an industrial area—_Rocket Town_, Iris thought, noticing the great green launch towers from the old Shinra space program.

"Inside this factory, I am preparing mankind's answer to this threat. A weapon so powerful, it will break through the enemy barrier. Make no mistake, Zenith has heard the enemy's war cry, loud and clear. They think they can take our land, our cities, but in a few weeks' time, I will show them how severely wrong they were. Once the barrier has been breached, Zenith Infantry will be deployed to deal with any remaining threats to our civilization. Recruiting stations have opened—if you value what Zenith and the WRO have done for humanity, if you at all care about the tremendous progress we've made after Meteorfall and the sweat and blood your ancestors shed to put you where you are today, then I encourage you to find your local recruiting station and join Z.I. in the fight for civilization—today."

The screen went black for a moment, and the crowd in the bar exploded into chatter immediately.

"I'm volunteering!" a young sailor bellowed, raising his beer aloft and sloshing some onto his friend. Several other men, and a few women that looked to be mercenaries, nodded in agreement. There were more than a few people that looked at the blank screen in confusion, even contempt.

"They don't even know who's doing it," an old woman said to her grizzled husband.

"Oh, they know, they just won't say," he grunted. He added mockingly, "What does it matter? They're the enemy..."

Iris overheard a gruff-voiced man say to his friend, "Heard from a fisherman, one of those guys who goes on those big boats up in the arctic…he said the barrier's impenetrable, that the military's already tried firing rockets at it, even materia, but nothin' works."

"Ahh, that's a load of Chocobo dung," his friend groused, picking at his teeth with a toothpick.

"We were right about the summons materia," Iris said in a low voice, turning to Amon. His eyes looked a bit glassy as he waggled a finger.

"_You_ were right," he corrected, and downed the rest of his sake. He said loudly, "If they use that weapon, whatever it is, against th' Cetra, and they decide to wipe us all out, it'll be my fault…"

"Shut your mouth, fool!" Ten hissed, his eyes shifting, making sure no one had heard him.

"What? S'the truth," Amon said, and moved to pour himself another cup. Kai slid it out of his reach and smiled amiably.

"I think that's about done it, don't you?" she said, laying a hand on his human arm.

"I think after my little dip in the ocean, the least I deserve is t'get shitfaced," he retorted, and reached for the bottle. "How 'bout you, Iris? Shots?"

Iris thought about it for a second. Being drunk would only make her feel ten times worse about things. She shook her head. Kai squawked something at him, but Iris couldn't hear it over the annoying buzzing sound that was coming from the TV.

"Anyone else hear that?" she asked, digging a finger in her ear. She winced as the pitch became louder, higher.

"Hear what?" Ten asked, now joining Kai in an effort to restrain Amon from gulping the rest of the sake.

"Shiva's tits and ass! Will someone shut that TV off?" Iris screeched, clamping her hands over her ears. She barely noticed that her shouting had attracted the attention of half the people in the bar. She was too distracted by the screen, which began to flicker with static. The flickering turned into waves of color, and the waves melded together to form an image. The Z.I. stoic theme began to play, and the TV displayed images of waving flags, proud soldiers marching into battle, flying airships, bombs…several people cheered, and others sent up their glasses.

"Banzai!" someone cried out.

"Please," Kai muttered, and hid the sake bottle on the floor. Amon sat transfixed by the screen, having seemingly given up on drinking himself into a stupor. Iris lost sight of everyone in the room. As the video montage played, she felt as though someone was reaching in her brain, groping around with prying fingers. Memories of a dark, cramped room in a Zenith sublevel basement, clamps holding her eyelids open, tiny video screens placed just in front of her retinas, words and images flashing so fast, so sickeningly close and invading that her stomach began to turn. Her breathing sped up, her pupils dilating.

Still no one noticed, everyone watching the screen as it announced the recruitment locations. The nearest one was in Gongaga—which everyone knew to be the town of the SOLDIER 1st Class hero, Zack.

_Zenith. Shinra. Soldier. Attack. Cetra. Destroy. KILL!_

The last voice rang in her head like a gong, until she stood up in recoil. She pushed her way through the crowd, knocking two people onto their backs and spilling drinks.

"Watch it, bitch!" a sailor snarled in her ear. Without looking, she grabbed his forearm and twisted. There was a sickening pop, and the man screamed, holding his useless arm to his chest. Ten was on her like a wasp, but she pushed him away, so hard that he had to use his arms to keep from falling onto their table. She leaped onto the bar, kneeling down to grasp a large knife someone had left next to the lemons…

_Kill them. The jesters who mock our glorious empire. Show them the true power of Shinra!_

Ten's dagger sailed past her head, embedding itself in the TV screen. There was a pop and a bright flash, followed by the musical rain of broken glass. People yelled, startled, and backed away from the bar, knocking over tables and more drinks.

"Fuck," Ten said, flapping his hand to loosen his wrist. "Meant to hit the wires next to the TV. Must be the beer." He pushed his nearly-empty glass away.

Iris blinked, shaking her head. She looked down at the sea of people, all glaring up at her, murmuring at the weird, spiky-haired girl with the vibrant eyes. No, they weren't looking directly at her…she brought the knife up, and dropped it as though she'd been stung. It fell behind the bar, from which the bartender pulled a shotgun and aimed it her.

"You three," he growled, jerking his head at Amon, Kai, and Ten, glaring at them from under heavy black eyebrows. "Get this crazy chick out of here before I send her out myself in a body bag!"

Amon's face darkened, and he stood up menacingly, brandishing his arm blade. But Kai seized his human arm, holding him back, whispering something in his ear. Her hair brushed against his face, and her nearness seemed to calm him. Ten raised both hands in a gesture of peace and helped Iris climb down from the bar.

"Sorry 'bout your TV, man," he said to the bartender.

"Just get the fuck out," the bartender snarled. "I ain't the owner. Be glad he ain't here."

They left the bar in a hurry, Iris's feet dragging. She shook her head over and over, trying to empty it of the crazy thoughts that seemed to fly out from nowhere, like bats in a belfry. Vincent, standing just outside with Shou, ran to her side, and helped Ten hold her up.

"What happened?" he asked. "I saw some people run out, saying something about a girl with a knife."

"That was me," Iris croaked, her hair hanging in her face. She fought back the urge to vomit. "I feel like shit…ugh. Maybe it was the sake. Someone put something in my drink…"

"No way," Ten said. "We were all there. We would've seen somethin'."

"Let's get out of town," Kai suggested. "We can make it to Gongaga in a day. We'll stop once we find a safe place and let Shou take a look at you."

They had stuffed what little supplies they had into two packs, which were worn by Amon and Ten. The materia that wasn't equipped to their weapons and armor, Kai kept in a satchel close to her side. They hiked it out of town without incident, which they took to be a blessing, but as the skies darkened, threatening rain, they all wished they had found an inn for the night. Instead they were forced to hang up a tarp between some trees and to make due with a bed of leaves underneath a thin plastic sheet. It was a far cry from comfortable, but as Iris lay in a heap, listening to the rain patter on the tarp, her confusion slowly faded. She drifted off into a light sleep, where blurred faces pressed in, reaching for her, but always somehow eluding her grasp.

When she awoke, the others were sitting around a small fire. It was early morning, and very foggy. She couldn't even see the road only a few yards away.

"Come join us," Ten waved, holding up a frying pan. They were all eating eggs, and Amon handed her a plate.

"Where did you get this?" she asked.

"Climbed a few trees," Shou said, shrugging. "Checked the brush for ground nests, too."

"Resourceful little bugger," Amon said, grinning. He turned to Iris. "You feeling better? You scared the crap out of us back there."

"I am." Iris wolfed down the eggs, scraping the yolk off with her fork.

"What happened?" Vincent asked. She retold her story, trying not to go into too much detail, lest she bring back more 'brain soup' memories.

"They must've done something to you, so that when you heard that video, you'd do something crazy, and get arrested," Amon said, shaking his head in disgust. "Sick fucks."

"But why? Why do this at all?" Iris asked, then answered her own question. "Unless Nox thought I would escape. This would be a way for them to know where I am. They'd just have to search police reports, match my description and location…"

"I have heard of this technique before," Vincent chimed in, his hands in his lap. "It's an old Shinra technique when they wanted to create a sleeper agent. They make you watch something for hours and hours on end, not even allowing you to blink or move. And then, depending on the type of command, seeing a few seconds of the video, or hearing a certain song, or a phrase, would be enough to wake up the demon inside you. They-"

Iris winced and said, "All right, we get it. Thanks."

"So I guess we had better not see any movies anytime soon," Kai joked.

"Let's take it a step further," Iris said. "I'm not going anywhere near a TV or a radio, anything media related that could play that Zee advertisement."

"What about when we have to go into town, for supplies? What about inns? They have TV's," Shou asked. "I could maybe try and make something to put in your ears, like a salve. And then you could just close your eyes and walk past the TV…"

Iris shook her head. "I think it's best that I just avoid town altogether. They're looking for me."

"That makes two of us," Shou muttered. It occurred to Iris, just then, that the reason he had stormed out wasn't Ten's overbearing paternal nature, but the fact that his uncle, the man who had killed his father, had been on the screen.

"What about you?" she asked him. "Are you okay?"

The boy's ears flattened. He eyes flicked to Vincent, who stared at him curiously. "I'll be all right," he said, reaching down into a bag. "Anyone for more eggs?"

Amon clattered his plate like a monk begging for alms. They conceded that avoiding towns was the safest plan for Iris, so she would have to wait for them with someone while the others went on supply runs. They put out their flames soon after that, scattering the evidence of their fire, and packed up. A few hours of hiking later, Iris spotted the remains of an old Mako reactor, and farther along, the town of Gongaga sprang out of the wilderness like a child's toy village set.

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><p>(AN: I'm sorry that took so long! Things have been getting very busy, and I'm currently in the process of apartment shopping (woo) and I have a vacation coming up. I can't promise I'll update before then, though I'll try my best to get something out next week or the week after. *salutes* Things should settle down by the beginning of August. Not putting the story on hiatus or anything, but things will be slow until then. Thank you again for your support and patience, everyone!

3 Yuzie)


	25. Serenata del Chocobo

(A/N: Guess who's back? I'm really sorry for not updating sooner. I've been incredibly busy, and a certain copy of FFXIII is consuming my life. Anyway, I'm on a semi-regular writing schedule, so I will try to update weekly, or at the very least bi-weekly. Here's a shorter, happier chapter, because things were getting a bit too angst-y for my taste, and because every FFVII story needs chocobos. =] )

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><p>FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum<p>

Chapter 25: Serenata del Chocobo

Iris dropped a handful of leaves into the campfire, no larger than a cooking fire, really, and watched as they lit up, bright orange, before bursting into flame and crumbling into blackened curlicues. She sat in a secluded glade just a few miles outside the town of Gongaga. Ten, Kai, and Shou had left for town about two hours ago, resupplying for their remaining journey to Cosmo Canyon. As much as she had wanted to go, she knew it wasn't safe for her to be around anything that could broadcast a signal, and there would certainly be TVs, radios, and other apparatus scattered throughout the town. Thus, she was forced to stay behind. She couldn't risk another incident like the one in the bar.

Vincent and Amon had gone off in search of firewood and food, but Iris had the suspicion that they were discussing _her_, along with the scroll. Men were so less tactical about such things, during the rare occasions when they did converse with one another. Her fingers strayed to the materia orb in her pocket, spinning it around, and she felt something personal in its warmth, like holding a tiny hand. After a while she grew tired of staring into the fire and, feeling anxious and useless, she stood up and checked their campsite for flaws. After she made sure the tarp ties were secure, the sleeping area clean, the campfire not too close to anything flammable, and after digging through the packs for signs of wear and tear, there was simply nothing else to be done.

She perched on a tree stump and ran through some old training exercises to improve balance and stamina. The fluid, hypnotic, poses meant to engage her mind gave way to more challenging ones, testing her muscles, and she was upside down with one hand on the stump, the other outstretched, when Vincent and Amon returned with a few paltry armfuls of firewood.

"Most of it was damp," Amon said, before she could make a remark. He set his pile down, along with Vincent, and the two men stood there with their arms folded. They had either talked themselves dry, she thought, or perhaps they had nothing to talk about to begin with.

"Don't let me interrupt you from your silent contest," she chimed, lowering her legs and rising to a standing position. She crouched in a horse stance and practiced her punches, aiming low.

"I'm going to go into town," Vincent announced, patting the money pouch on his belt. "There are a few things I need to stock up on."

"See you later," Iris said, detached. She focused on a fallen tree in front of her. After Vincent disappeared into the brush, Amon watched her perform her routine, still standing with his arms against his chest. He looked to be debating something, the corner of his mouth turned downward, his bangs covering one eye.

"Something on your mind?" she asked him, balancing on one foot with her arms extended like a crane.

"It's your mind I'm worried about these days," he replied.

She hopped off the tree stump and walked over. Giving him her most sincere smile, she was about to tell him she was fine, when he cupped a hand against her mouth.

"Save it," he said. "I know you're not fine. This whole thing is…is…well, it's…"

"Fucked?" she finished for him. He nodded.

"Yeah, that about describes it."

She edged away from him, frowning. "Well, thanks for the reminder. I'm gonna get back to training now." She practiced her fighting technique against the trunk of a dead tree, kicking the same spot repeatedly, her boot making a hollow wooden sound as it thwacked against the bark. It took her back to her training days in Solstice, made her think of Kaito, how on the weekends he would train her from dawn until dusk, instructing her in all the ways to make a body into a weapon. Sometimes there were physical challenges, balancing on posts, vaulting through the air, and the never-ending sparring matches, and sometimes there were mental challenges, math problems, maps, and old war charts with weird symbols that she was supposed to make sense of. She remembered how she would flop down on her bed, exhausted, too tired for school on Monday. All of that training, somehow it was supposed to help mold her into the perfect warrior. But it hadn't…

After a few minutes, she peered behind her shoulder. Amon had gone. She jumped and delivered a spinning kick the dead tree, which cracked at the roots as it tumbled over and rolled several feet away. There were several dead, rotting trees around the campsite, and she attacked all of them in the same fashion, her blows growing stronger and more violent. The final tree she exploded into splinters with her fists. Not feeling any better, she accepted the fact that she was just lonely, and sat down by the campfire, awaiting the others, her leg thumping against the ground. About fifteen minutes later, the bushes behind her rustled, and she spun around, half expecting to see the Turks, or Pontius Rex, or the Cetra, or…

Amon held up his leather pouch and tossed it to her. She opened it and seized a handful of thick green plants. A familiar smell wafted from the pouch, and her eyes lit up. "Krakka greens?"

He nodded, smiling a small, wry smile, and took two long rolls of rope from off his shoulders, throwing one to her. Then, he tossed her a few smaller lengths. "C'mon," he said, waving her on into the bushes.

"But there aren't any chocobos in this area," she reminded, putting the smaller ropes into her pockets. "I haven't seen any tracks or leavings or feathers…"

Amon's voice came from the forest wall, "No offense, but I was always the better tracker. You make enough noise to scare a drunken Mu from five miles away."

"Yeah, right, you would find them, I just did all the work. I still have a scar on my pinky from that male that charged me after you tripped over his chick…"

"Shhhhh!"

She bit her lip and followed him through the forest. The air was fair, cool, and the breeze nonexistent, which it wouldn't carry their scent. He led her downhill, along a dirt path that meandered through the thick trees, until the forest ended in a line and opened up into a patch of tall, emerald green grass. She squatted with him behind a row of bushes and looked out over the field, which appeared to be empty, save for a few metallic blue, winged insects that buzzed about like miniature helicopters. They waited in that spot, until the sun had changed position in the sky, until Iris's legs tingled and her toes ached.

"This isn't helping my sore feet, you know," she muttered.

He shushed her and pointed. The grass in the middle of the field rustled. Amon clutched his rope in anticipation. Iris plopped down on the ground, stretching her legs. A family of Mu squirrels darted out of the grass and scrambled into a burrow at the base of the tree behind Amon. She laughed at his look of disappointment, then lay on her back, rocked, and sprang up onto her feet.

"Unless you plan on catching a thousand of those things and tying them to a sled, I think we're done here." She hoisted the rope coil over her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to tell the travel agency we saw LOTS of chocobos…"

Amon rolled his blue eyes. "You are so impatient. Luckily, I've got some insurance." He took something out of his pocket—a small wooden flute with a pink stone on the end. She recognized the stone as a chocobo lure, but the flute was somewhat of a novelty. Probably a rip-off, except Amon had lived alongside her in Neo Midgar, the citadel of shams and seedy businessmen, and they both knew bullshit when they saw it.

"That's cute," she remarked. "Where'd you get that?"

"Back in Gongaga, from a traveling merchant." He played a few silent notes on the flute, and Iris stood there, tapping her foot. Amon gazed out at the field, twiddling the flute in his hand. After ten minutes of nothing, Iris blew a lock of hair out of her face and turned around.

"Well, it's been thrilling," she said, "but if you're through blowing that dog whistle, I'm gonna head back to camp now before the others…"

"Just wait a second!" Amon snapped. "It'll work."

She snorted and began to walk away. "It's probably not too late to run into town and ask for your gil ba-"

"WARK!"

She jumped at the chocobo cry, which erupted from the other end of the field. Amon gave her a cocky look and tucked the flute back in his pocket, unwinding the rope, which was tied into a lasso at the end. Iris did the same, and they peered over the bushes as a large, yellow male chocobo strutted into view. He flapped his wings, the span of which was about ten feet, puffing up his feathers, and looked around, surveying his territory. When he decided it was safe, he scratched the ground with his enormous talons, pecking at the roots of the grass. Slowly, Iris watched in amazement as more chocobos emerged from the foliage, until she counted six total, all cornflower yellow and in good condition. This was the male's flock—she spotted four females and a fifth, younger male.

_That can't be a coincidence,_ she thought. _Just enough for all of us…_

Amon took the greens from his pocket, which wafted a spicy smell, somewhat like incense, into the air. The big male got a whiff of them almost instantly, despite no wind carrying their scent. Normally, the smell of a human was enough to send a chocobo running, but this one was curious and confident. He shifted on his long legs and strutted over to the bushes to investigate, clacking his impressive, razor-sharp orange beak.

"Whoever catches the most gets first dibs," Amon said out of the corner of his mouth.

Iris unwound her rope slowly. "Deal. And the losing terms?"

"Loser has to ride bareback and naked, ten minutes, no exceptions."

"Looks like I'll be telling Kai there's gonna a show tonight." She smiled wryly, detecting the barest hint of a flush in Amon's cheeks. The big male advanced towards them, in the odd, swaying gait that chocobos possessed, tail feathers waddling back and forth. The chocobo stood at least three or four heads taller than them. One strike from one of those muscular wings, or a kick from the ostrich-like legs could deal some serious damage.

Any feather-back worth his salt knew that there were two ways to catch a chocobo—the first of which was to use greens and win the chocobo's trust. The second way involved a much more hands-on approach, which they were hoping to avoid. Amon placed the greens on the ground before him, and the male stopped when his large, black eyes finally spotted the human holding the enticing food. The bird waited a moment, considering this new creature that had intruded into his territory, before closing the gap between them. He lowered his head to eat. While he was distracted, Amon knelt by the bird's feet and took out a smaller length of rope from his pocket, beginning to tie it around the bird's legs.

He looked up at Iris as he was doing so. "Looks like that's one for me. You bett—ARGH!"

The male's head whipped up; the chocobo took off in a cloud of dust. Amon's lasso went flying, and it latched around the male's neck, tightening in an instant. The force of the pull dragged Amon on his feet across the field like a water skier. The other chocobos scattered instantly, but Iris was after them, her lasso swinging overhead. She launched it at the nearest, a young female, and caught it around the neck. She gave it a handful of greens to eat and tied its leg to a sapling with one of the smaller ropes before going after the others.

While Amon struggled with his footing as the male took him for a ride, Iris lassoed another female, tied her legs together. The final three had taken off on opposite ends of the field, and looked like they were about to flee into the woods. There was no way in Hades she would reach them on time, should they decide to run for it.

"Shit." She watched Amon finally catch his ground, pulling hard on the rope, until the male was forced to stop. The flock leader was now shaking his head back and forth and lashing out with his talons at Amon, who was slowly shortening the amount of rope he was holding to get closer. The remaining chocobos, Iris realized, were watching too. A noise to her left caused her to look away.

"Kweh!" the first caught female cried shrilly to the young male across the field. The male shifted on its feet, obviously distraught, and sent back a lamentable cry.

"Is this your girlfriend?" Iris called. She picked up Amon's greens, those that hadn't been torn up by the big male's talons, and sat down by the young female, who was struggling against her restraints. She held out a handful of the greens. The female pecked angrily at her and pulled hard on her ropes, ruffling her dirty-blonde feathers.

"Come on now," she said soothingly, placing the greens at the female's feet, drawing her hand back to escape another angry peck. The female eyed her distrustfully, but the smell of the greens was too tempting, like catnip to a feline. She lowered her beak and began to eat. Iris held up another handful of greens and fed the other caught female. The remaining three watched her anxiously, the young male taking a few steps forward towards his mate. His feathers were the lightest of any chocobo she had ever seen, so blonde they were practically white, with a dark underbelly.

She sat down and waited as, one by one, the other birds began to close in. They hovered just outside the circle of Iris's reach, swaying their heads uncertainly. Iris held up the greens in the direction of the male, who glanced at his mate, now polishing off the remains of her meal.

"Kweh," the female warbled. Whatever she had said, it convinced the male. He trotted forward and would have eaten the greens right out of Iris's hand, had she not placed them on the ground at the last second. She tied his feet, and after a few seconds, the others joined him, happily eating their fill.

_They stuck together as a flock_, she thought in mild amazement. _Even though they had the chance to run away._

A few minutes later, Amon finally had the big male under his control. The flock leader was in no mood to eat, but Amon had him on a short length of rope and was leading him to the rest of the chocobos. When he arrived where Iris was sitting, he gawked at the five chocobos, who were now sitting comfortably and looking rather sleepy and full.

"How did you…five of them…what the hell?" he babbled. Iris winked at him, smiling.

"Looks like you get more flies with honey," she said.

"Honey that _I _bought," he asserted.

She pretended to examine her nails. "I believe a certain deal must be upheld."

Amon's face paled. He inhaled sharply, perhaps to protest, perhaps just out of breath, but Iris knew he wasn't one to complain when the time came to own up. The male tugged on his rope, though this time halfheartedly instead of with shoulder-dislocating force. Still, they had six adult chocobos to deal with.

"We have our hands full here. Forgive me if I don't follow through until later," he said. She shrugged.

"I can live with that. Let's get this flock back to camp. I'm starving."

They set to work fashioning makeshift collars for the birds, then strung them together in a line. The male they put up front, and Amon restrained him personally, though the leader no longer seemed keen on fighting him. He did this for good reason. Amon had looked away to check on the chocobo behind him, the male aimed a well-placed kick at his backside. Iris warned him on time, and he avoided the kick by inches. When he rose from his dive and turned around, the male stood still, watching a butterfly flit past his beak.

"I'm going to name him Sly," he declared.

"A fitting name," Iris agreed. She patted the platinum-colored male. "This one here is Pharaoh."

"You want him?" he asked, gesturing to one of the older females. "You sure? He looks a little gangly. And those feathers…I've never seen coloring like that. Looks inbred."

She shot him a glare. "He is not. I like him." She patted the male's side. The chocobo turned to look at her, the light from the blue sky above reflecting in his eyes. A long feather stuck up from the back of his head, the rest arranged in a funny halo of spikes. Iris tilted her head slightly, a faint smile playing on her face. "He reminds me of someone…"

"Gods," Kai sighed as she set her bags down, sitting on a log and pulling off one of her knee-high boots. She started massaging her foot as Ten sat across from her.

"You too, huh?" Ten said, stretching out his legs stiffly and wincing. "All this trekin' 'cross the land's got me so sore, I can't hardly move."

Shou, a bit dark around the eyes and sweating, set some bags down in front of their sleeping tarp and fell flat across his bed mat without a word. It was mid-day, and the sun was high and hot in the sky. Even the plants looked worse for the wear—shriveled and droopy, they seemed to nod in agreement with the slightest breeze.

"That makes three of us I guess," Ten said, jerking his thumb towards the lower half of Shou sticking out from under the tarp.

"Where is everybody?" Kai asked. "Off training, you think?"

Ten broke a twig in half and made a noise of disproval. "Prol'ly out exploring. Those two can never stay in one place for long."

"And our tall, dark and mysterious friend?"

"Out draining the blood of sheep. Who knows." Ten tossed the twig halves into their fire pit. He saw something he didn't like, because he furrowed his brow and stood up. "This fire's been out a long while. No one's been here to keep feeding it."

Kai pulled her boots on and followed him to the outer ring of their campsite. She quickly spotted Amon's and Iris's prints in the dirt. Ten growled.

"If I gotta spend ALL day searchin' for those two clowns, I'm gonna-"

"Kweh!" The big male chocobo poked his head through the brush, only a few feet from Ten. He jumped, swearing in a high-pitched voice that made Kai giggle. Amon's sweaty face and messy hair appeared, followed by Iris. They marched a chain of chocobos into their camp—Kai counted six in all.

"Shiva in heaven!" she said, bowing deeply. "My feet say thank you!"

"Your feet are most welcome, madam," Amon replied in a pseudo-genteel voice. He returned her bow and handed her the lead for one of the females. Iris pretended to gag as she handed Ten the lead to his bird.

He gave her an appreciative nod and patted the female's flank. "Nice job, you two."

"Whoa!" Shou emerged from the tent, his tail standing on end. "We're gonna ride these things?"

"Yep. Here you go." Iris handed him a lead to a small female, who still dwarfed him by half his height.

"Keep a good grip on that rope," Amon told him. "The young ones will bolt if they think you're not looking."

"Will you teach me to ride?" Kai asked, her keen, green eyes brightening.

"Definitely." He smiled a bit too wide. Iris hopped onto Pharaoh and kneed the bird into a trot. The bird acted on instinct and swept over to them.

"Oh he'll teach you!" Iris laughed. "Right after he carries out his sentence!"

Kai looked to Amon for an explanation, but his face had turned wine red and he walked away, pretending to busy himself with packing. About fifteen minutes later, Vincent made a silent entrance into camp. Though no one questioned his disappearance, it was the subject on everyone's mind as he surveyed the birds.

"Hmmm. Thought I heard chocobos," he said softly. There was a nostalgic air to his voice, Iris thought. She gave him the lead to his, a sturdy female, with pretty, chestnut-brown spots on her breast and back. Vincent stared at the rope in his hand for a moment before swinging himself onto his mount.

"Well, look who's the seasoned rider," Iris said, eyeing him with sincere admiration.

"It certainly takes me back." He straightened, adjusting his long cape, then patted the female's neck tenderly with his claw-free hand. "Though I prefer to travel on foot."

Iris shushed him. "Don't let her hear you."

Beneath his bandana and sable bangs, his eyebrow went up. "Who?"

"Your chocobo..."

"Oh. Of course."

After a quick lap around the campsite, Iris reluctantly dismounted Pharaoh to help them pack. With the six of them working together, they had everything strapped down to the backs of the chocobos in a half hour. As she remounted her chocobo and held onto the makeshift reigns, she felt in her element for the first time in a long while. It filled her with hope, knowing she could still do something right. They spent an hour going over some riding basics with the others, then Iris spurred Pharaoh forward, and they took off at a fast trot. The yellow birds were swift and agile across the hilly terrain, weaving expertly between the trees.

They rode for hours on end, stopping only once to give the birds time to rest and stretch their legs. The landscape changed, all traces of civilization disappearing off the map. The forest stretched on for miles and miles, and they only caught glimpses of its borders on the tops of hills where the trees grew thin. Beyond the forest, the red wastelands stretched into the horizon, like a crimson film on top of a green potion.

Somewhere out in those desert lands, the answers to Iris's questions lay dormant, waiting to be unearthed. But they still had about a week of riding to go. That night, they tied their chocobos to the trees around their campsite, not trusting the birds enough yet to let them roam freely. Ten arranged some logs into a pyramid and used Fire to get the flames going. They ate a light dinner of soup and bread, despite the protesting from their stomachs. A full belly on a bumpy chocobo was not a comfortable sensation. Iris found an enormous, incredibly old tree next to their camp. She found a wide branch, at least twice her width, covered in thick moss. She lay on her back and gazed up at the stars-she had never seen so many in once place. It seemed that the entire galaxy was out that night, probably from the lack of light pollution. Everything felt incredibly far away, and her worries drained out of her as she drifted off to sleep.


	26. Two Dragons

Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 26: Two Dragons

In the time it took the sea to draw one wave back and release another, rumor had spread throughout the village of Zardiel. A strange man was staying with the Lee family. Gawkers and curious villagers crowded in the dirt street outside the family home. Grandma Flori and Acacius stopped them from getting a glimpse of the foreigner. Eventually, the empty conversations with their nosy neighbors, the none-too-subtle suggestions to go away got the better of Grandma Flori, and she retired to the house. Acacius didn't seem to mind guard duty, in fact, he took relish in telling his audience how he gallantly pulled the stranger out of a roaring river, carrying him on his back for a mile in the driving rain, and how he fought off a full-grown hippogriff before running into town for help.

Grandma Flori's mood remained buoyant all day, until she spotted two boys up in the palm trees by the guest bedroom window, sneaking dangerously close to the glass. The old woman called for Acacius, who threw rocks (and insults) at the boys and shook the tree trunk until they were obliged to come down.

One of the boys landed on the ground and sneered, "You know it's only a matter of time before the Turks find him."

Acacius grabbed another rock and raised his fist warningly. "Try anything and I'll kick your ass."

"Right!" The other boy laughed harshly, keeping a safe distance from him. "Like how you kicked that hippogriff's ass! Tell us again how you did it, I'm confused about the part where you ran away like a little bitch…"

"Fuck you!" He hurled his rock at them, and the two boys laughed like hyenas as they trod through part of Grandma Flori's garden and fled down the road, into the safety of a group of adults. Acacius's chest rose and fell heavily, his upper teeth biting into his lower lip. Should he chase after them before they could tell on him? It didn't really matter, since the whole village knew. He needed dad there; dad would know what to do…but dad's fishing trip had been delayed due to a torn sail, and he wasn't due back for another day. That meant he was in charge of the family's safety. And they wouldn't be safe, so long as they continued to house the stranger. But he couldn't just tell the man to leave—in truth, although the stranger had been nothing but respectful during his time with them, a part of Acacius secretly feared him. He set his jaw and began to walk towards the house, then stopped. He made up his mind and turned around, making a b-line for the town.

* * *

><p>The stranger sat on his bed, turning a dagger over in his long, thin hands. Glimpses of his teal, slit eyes flashed whenever the blade went face-up. He sat on a skinny cot in a room not much larger than a closet, his silver hair dangling past his shoulders. The most galling thing about the amnesia, he mused, was having some knowledge, rather than having none at all. At least with no knowledge, he could start completely anew. But the memories wouldn't leave him alone. They crowded him in that tiny room like shadows at sunset. A whole army of memories consisting of his past life clashed, raging war on the battleground of his mind.<p>

Who was he? There was the distinct image in his head of himself, in another place and time, wearing a black SOLDIER First Class uniform with silver pauldrons. He'd had a sword then, but like himself, he couldn't recall its name. He was the only one to ever wield it. Or was he? His fingers tightened around the hilt of the dagger. He shifted his shoulders, lowering his gaze to the floor, trying to remember.

There were others—two men, soldiers like him, their faces nothing more than blurs in his mind. When he tried to bring them into the light, all he saw were wings and feathers cluttering his vision. Still even more faces, some clear, some opaque, flashed into his mind and left him in starry darkness, groping around for purchase. A sinister penumbra blocked most of his memories, and here was what remained. A body, the ability to communicate, and not much else.

_Not true_, a voice whispered inside him. _You can still think. You can still DO. And you have a name…_

_Who am I? _The voice didn't answer. There was never anything there, only silence. Shadows of shadows. He gripped the dagger tight, until his knuckles paled. In a fit of frustration, he began to spin the blade between his fingers, twirling it slowly at first, then speeding up until the dagger was nothing but a metallic blur. It danced across his knuckles, standing up at its point before falling across his wrist, where one slight rotation brought it back up again, his fingers working like the legs of a spider.

The man fought for his name, now on the tip of his tongue, until flames burned his face—no, he remembered the heat of flames, the red light, the intense, scorching heat, and something else, some unbearable madness that threatened to seize hold of him—then, a sharp, real pain shocked him out of his concentration. A line of blood trickled down his right index finger and dripped a single drop onto the floor. He watched his own blood fall, along with the dagger, and as he heard the sound of the metal colliding with the wood, the heat abated, the smell of smoke went away as if a sudden breeze had carried it out of the room.

Just like that, the fire, the maddening heat, was gone. He wiped the blood from the cut on his pants and picked up the dagger, examining the blade with distant familiarity. Whoever he was, or had been, he wasn't sure that he wanted to remember now.

Someone knocked softly at his bedroom door. "Hello? May I come in?" It was the old woman. He tucked the blade into the waistband of his pants and lowered his shirt over it.

"Yes."

The door opened a crack and Grandma Flori's tanned face appeared. "Just checking on you. I hope you don't mind." She held up a wooden plate with some chopped fruit and vegetables on it, setting it on the round table by his bed. "I'm afraid this is all we have until Bali returns from his trip. It's fresh from our garden, at least."

The man's silver bangs dipped as he bowed his head in thanks. Grandma Flori backed away until she got to the door. "If you need anything else, you only have to ask."

"Can you grow memories in that garden of yours?" His lips curled into a wan smile. She laughed before she could help herself—watching him smile was like watching a cat try to walk through water.

"I'm afraid not,' she said, serious. "But perhaps they will come back in time. Have you remembered anything?"

His smile faded.

_The heat from the flames lapping at his coat tassels and boots. It does not burn him, though he walks among it, past the burning buildings and the bodies. There is the sharp, iron smell of blood. A winding path, steep and treacherous, going down the dragon's throat and into some great metal chamber of a belly. Blue light. An inhuman voice, telling him to come closer…set her free...become one. Mother's voice._

"No. I don't remember anything." His hands clung to the edge of the bed, putting on a good show of confusion. It surprised him how easily he could lie.

The old woman sighed. "That's too bad. Well, perhaps with more time. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you." He turned his face away from her, a sheaf of silver covering his face. She shut the door without a sound and went away. After a while, when being indoors felt like being in a cage, he got up and left for the garden. Grandma Flori watched him from the window as he walked amongst the rows of plants, all but hidden in their green depths, save for his silver hair. She crept upstairs and without a single hesitation opened the door to his room. Her eyes, while the eyes of someone very old, were still as sharp and keen as a bird of prey's, though she didn't like to let anyone know. They returned to the drop of blood on the floor, traveled to the uneaten plate of food, then to the bed, where the covers were undisturbed.

He had been up pacing all night. Her daughter-in-law and grandchildren slept like rocks, but she had heard him, no matter how lightly he treaded on those young feet of his. She stood over the drop of blood, then cleaned it up with a rag from her pocket. A single drop of red spread out in the center of the cloth. She folded it into a neat square and put it back into her pocket. Then, taking care to close the door softly, she padded back downstairs

When she returned to her spot by the window, her heart thudded suddenly in her chest. The man was staring at the house from the garden, at the exact spot where she was sitting. Then, curiously, he turned away as quickly as he had looked, bending down to examine something. But for that fleeting moment in time, she had felt as though his eyes could see straight through walls, burning right through her.

* * *

><p>The following day, their guest paid his debt to the Lee family by fixing things previously on Acacius's father, Bali's, to-do list. Not only was he good at fixing things, he improved them as well. Grandma Flori, seated on her rocker and playing her ocarina the porch, watched her guest clean the gutters, except he didn't stop there—he ran a bamboo pipe down the side of the house and into the garden, where it traveled into a series of pipes he had put on stilts. He carved some smaller sheaves of bamboo, giving them a flute-like opening, and placed these at strategic points along the pipe. Everything he did, he did so carefully, with utmost precision. She hadn't seen him falter or grow confused once, only pause to consider before carrying out each action without any further hesitation. Still, she got the impression that he was making this up as he went.<p>

He grabbed a bucket, and walked to the freshwater stream that was about 500 feet away from the house. He returned with it full, climbed the ladder, and dumped the contents into the gutter. Flori heard the whoosh of water as it traveled down the pipe. She got up and followed the main pipes, her eyes widening a bit in surprise. Water sprinkled out of the smaller bamboo pipes, distributing to the entire first and second rows of her garden.

"What is all this?" she asked. "It's wonderful."

"It's an irrigation system," he replied, watching the water and checking certain points on the pipes. "At least, I think that's what it's called." He turned to look at her, his eyes more vibrant than the blue sky above them. "Do you find it suitable?"

"Suitable…" the old woman touched one of the leaves that had been watered, flicking drops off her fingers. "Y-yes, it's quite suitable. But why?"

He shrugged his broad shoulders. Working shirtless in the sun, with only a simply pair of brown trousers on, his skin didn't burn, or darken. He seemed to not be affected by the heat at all. He said, "I noticed your family has to go to the stream every time one of you wants water. And it doesn't seem like you get much rain, aside from the storm that brought me..." His brow furrowed, then he continued, "Now you don't have to rely on the weather."

"What if it rains too much?" she asked. "The garden could flood."

"I thought of that, too. Follow me."

He showed her a lever he had installed where the gutter and the pipe met. By lifting a hatch, they could redirect the water to its original dumping place. Flori huffed, impressed. The design was simple, but cleverly constructed.

"I don't know what we can do to thank you for this."

"No," he said, holding up a hand. "This is my thanks to you. For letting me stay. I know I'm not welcome amongst the others," he finished darkly.

The old woman clucked her tongue. "Tch. They will come to see you as one of us in time." She narrowed her eyes. "Unless, you were planning on leaving."

He rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing yet."

"Amnesia is a funny thing. You ought to be seen by a proper doctor, on the mainland." She lowered her voice. "Gods, I must be losing my touch. Don't tell anyone I just said that. Modern medicine, fah."

He showed her his white teeth with a sardonic grin. "It will be our little secret."

The old woman smirked at that—secrets seemed to be more plentiful than her green bean crop this year. She raised her earthen face to the horizon, a breeze playing with her long gray braid, and mused aloud, "Well, it looks like your whatchamacallit is about to be tested. It is going to rain. Come inside soon, I'll make you some tea that might help your memory."

He raised his eyes, but didn't see any clouds, and wondered if she had misjudged. Grandma Flori teetered back towards the house before he could question her. He remained in the garden, standing as still as a statue, watching the ocean. What lay beyond the blue? What else was happening in the world? Where did he fit into it? Where had he come from? And why were his dreams filled with moving landscapes, the clash of blades, and cries for help? A peal of thunder broke him from his thoughts. Well, the old woman was right after all. He grabbed his shirt off a wooden post and went back into the house, which was empty, save for Grandma Flori.

"Where is the rest of your family?" he asked. "I thought they would be home for dinner."

"My daughter-in-law and grandchildren are waiting at the docks for their father," she replied, taking a hissing tea kettle off the spit above the fireplace. It occurred to him that perhaps they were afraid for Bali and his crew. She said, "Come with me. Storms are a good time for reflection. They sweep in news from the rest of the world, for those who know how to listen."

She led him into a section of the living room that had been squared off with some paper screens depicting cranes flying above a reedy marsh. He sat down on a wide, square cushion by a flat tea table, laden with all matter of fortune-telling devices—candles, a salt circle, chalices, a mortar and pestle, river stones, a pile of bones, a crystal dagger, and, lastly, a wooden circle for the tea set. Grandma Flori set down the kettle and prepared him a cup of tea. Rain began to patter on the rooftop, creating a drumming sound that made his eyelids heavy. He drank the tea she poured for him, taking small, cautious sips, but he set the cup down when his head began to swim.

"Drink," the old woman encouraged him, lighting candles on the four corners of the table. The shadows surrounded them on all sides, save for the bubble of flickering light. He hesitated, then downed the rest of the cup. She grunted her approval and took it from him, lowering her face so close to it that the top of her nose dipped into the empty cup.

"Humph. Your tea leaves say many things, but most of which I already knew," she declared.

He rubbed his temple idly with one hand. The slightest trace of a sweat broke out on his forehead. "And what do you see?"

"I see the boar, Kjata—that is great strength, and resilience. I also see the wind, which can stand for many things, but in your case, it means you're light on your feet, clever, and prone to traveling. You are quite adverse to settling, in fact. And here," she pointed with her pinky to something he couldn't see, "there is the wolf's head, baring his fangs."

The tone in her voice aroused his suspicions. All this, the candles, the incense, the mysticism, incited a bitter distrust in him, which bubbled up like indigestion. Was that cold, mistrustful demeanor part of him as well?

"What does the wolf say about me?" he asked, wiping his forehead. His face felt hot. The candle flame seemed to vibrate with hidden energy.

"Not YOU," she corrected, setting the cup down. "The wolf is your nemesis. He comes when you least expect him, and always seems to slip from your grasp."

She watched his face for signs of recognition. His expression never changed, though it appeared animated in the flickering gloom. She went on, "The wolf is part of your past. Someone who embodies the qualities of the loner, who is both powerful and sensitive, did harm to you. Do you remember?"

_Intense pain rips into his flesh, tearing his organs, a greater pain than any he has ever felt before—and there has been much pain in his short lifetime, though he has no scars to show it. The pain radiates from his abdomen, where his own sword impales him. And at the other end of the sword…clear, blue eyes, burning him with vengeful fury, surrounded by a swath of spiked yellow hair._

They weren't coming back, the Lee family, he thought with paranoid conclusiveness. Someone was coming for him, someone who carried the force of the world. His left eye twitched, marring an otherwise perfectly still countenance. He brought his hands to his knees, his left hand snaking to his belt, but he withdrew it quickly. He stood up, so swift and so fast that Grandma Flori thought he would strike her. Instead he bowed once, deeply, and said, "I thank you and your family for your hospitality. But I must be going."

"You're leaving?" she said with concern, not moving from her cushion. "In the middle of a storm?"

"Yes. I must be off." He walked out of her fortune teller's corner and headed for the door. His vision swam. The rain swelled into a pounding chorus of drums. Or was that his heartbeat?

"Wait." The old woman's voice shifted, became clear and demanding. He ignored her and took another step forward. "I know who you are," she hissed quietly.

Those five words crashed into him, sinking to the bottom of his being, anchoring him to the spot. "Who am I?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned on one of the silk screens, sweating.

"Sit down, and I will tell you."

"You drugged me. Give me one good reason to trust you!" he snapped.

Grandma Flori laughed a great, belly laugh. "You are hardly drugged. Your memory is beginning to come back, and I suspect you're going through Mako withdrawal, which is why you haven't slept. Sit down and allow your memories to surface. And take that dagger out and give it to me, before you hurt someone."

He grinned darkly at that, taking the dagger out from his waistband and setting it on the table. Grandma Flori reached out and with fast, nimble fingers snatched the dagger away. The man sat down and humored her once more, drinking the bitter tea.

"I knew as soon as I saw you," she said, in a soft, nostalgic voice, her hands folded in her lap. "I saw a picture of you once, when I was a little girl and my parents were on a pilgrimage to Cosmo Canyon. It was from an old Shinra file…"

"When you were little? But that's-" he started, but she hushed him. Thunder rolled over the house, shaking the walls. She waited for it to pass before continuing.

"I had heard all the old stories, of course. My father was fond of telling them around the Cosmo Candle…well, that doesn't matter. The folks around here don't remember the old stories, they're too concerned with when it will rain again, or how tall their crops are growing, whether their neighbor is poisoning their goat, or who's going to marry whom." She gestured to her psychic's table. "I made a living telling fortunes on the road, when I was a young woman." She winked. "Now I do this only to keep my mind sharp. And it is sharper than ever."

"It was your voice," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Wasn't it? The one that told me I could still do things, that I had a name…"

"I see many things," she said sagely, ignoring his question. The air around her grew thick with shadow, and the house seemed to press inward , as if drawing breath. "I don't have to look so hard anymore, even when I'm telling fortunes. It's obvious the butcher is having an affair with the captain's wife. The butcher's wife only wants assurance that he will get what's coming to him. Every now and then, I open my third eye, and take a peek out into the ocean. I hear things mostly, but I see them too. Whispers from the Planet, lamenting atrocities caused by more industrious people. She shows me terrible things…and things that give me hope."

"She?"

"The guardian of this planet, Aeris. Surely you remember HER?" Her keen, predatory eyes focused on him, and for the first time he saw her not as a person, but as a hawk. He shook his head, and she replied, "I don't know how you got here, or where you came from, but I do know who you are." She held up a folded rag and opened it, showing him a smudge. It was his blood, he realized, from when he had cut himself. "I did a bit of alchemy using your blood—I do apologize for the invasion of privacy, but it told me what I needed to know. This is the blood of the One Winged Angel, the vessel of the calamity that nearly killed us two-hundred years ago, and before that, thousands of years ago."

"My blood?"

"Yours."

The man was at a loss for words. A strange calmness had washed over him, the first bit of calm he'd felt since waking up on this little, backward island. Could it be that she was correct? Was he reaching the end of his search?

"What is my name?" he implored, clenching his hands into fists. "If you know, you must tell me."

When she didn't say anything, he took a deep breath and exhaled, his anger rising. He closed his eyes once again and tried to locate his name. Something cold touched his hand. He opened his eyes. The old woman had placed a mirror in his lap. He held it up and peered at his reflection. As he did so, a voice unnervingly similar to his own filled his mind, except this one was full of icy contempt.

_By merging with all the energy of the planet, I will become a new life form, a new existence. Melding with the planet, I will cease to exist as I am now—only to be reborn as a god to rule over every soul._

_Tell me what you cherish most. Give me the pleasure of taking it away._

_What I have shown you is reality. What you remember, that is the illusion._

He had said those words to someone else, but now he felt the sting of irony. Perhaps this was all an illusion. Were it not for what the old woman said next, he would have questioned himself into madness.

"By trying to remember through rage, you will only feel rage," she told him. "Try another emotion. That one doesn't work for you anymore."

He focused all his thought on a different memory. The one of the two men, like him in some ways. Instead of confusion, this time he felt something—familiarity, belonging, and then…loneliness. He could see their faces, the one dark-haired and strong, the other light and sorrowful. His old friends, genetically engineered soldiers of Shinra. Ah yes, Shinra. His breath hissed into his lungs. He had been born and raised by Shinra personnel. Bred for a specific purpose, reared to be the ultimate soldier. They had chosen a powerful, mystical name for him, for nothing else would have been suitable. Spoken from the lips of everyone on the planet, his name would gain in infamy, until they screamed it in the streets during every Shinra rally. And, eventually, the screaming hordes would come to utter it with fear and revulsion.

"Sephiroth." He breathed out, relishing the sound of it. "That was my name."

Outside, the wind rose to a howl. He need only look into those sharp, predatory eyes to know the truth. He was right. The nightmarish man from his dreams was him. The old woman didn't smile at his revelation. Rather, her face appeared quite solemn, and she only grunted and reached for the mirror on the table in front of him. His hand snaked out and caught hers before she could take it. At last, he felt as though he was in control again. He was the most powerful being in the universe. He could do anything now. Starting with crushing this old hag's hand into dust...

"Let go of my hand," Grandma Flori ordered. It was perhaps the boldest thing anyone had ever said to him.

"Why?" he asked mockingly. "If I'm so evil, shouldn't I kill you and destroy this village?"

"The Sephiroth of the past would have, without flinching," she replied. Her free hand lowered on top of his, still gripping her wrist tightly, but not tight enough to hurt. "I cannot stop you. If you're going to kill me, then do it."

Sephiroth's slit eyes went alight for a moment with green fury, making his face seem like a living, laughing death mask, before they dulled quickly back to a placid teal. His grip on her hand grew soft. She let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, bowing his head respectfully and raising her hand to his forehead before releasing it. "I lost myself for a moment. You fed me and gave me shelter. It is hardly cause for such acts."

She shook her head, one hand clutched by her heart. Although visibly shaken, she said sturdily, "You are confused, and...incomplete."

Taking two halves of a clam shell, she held them apart to demonstrate. She handed one half to him. "You know what needs to be done."

She placed the other half of the shell inside a circle of stones before her, then began to toss the stones. After a few minutes of this, she looked up, to find him standing again, this time looking out the window. There was a slouch to his posture, and he appeared quite remorseful, perhaps ashamed of his actions.

She rose and went over to his side. "You must head west," she advised. "That is where your answers are." When he turned to face her, she placed the other half of the shell in his hands, which were trembling. She folded his fingers over them gently and the shaking stopped.

"Keep these with you always. And before you leave, I would ask you to remember something."

He listened, examining the shells in the palm of his hand, turning them over. One half of the shell was milky white, the other smudged with something dark. Was it soot?

The old woman said, "There are two dragons battling for control within us. One dark, the other light. They represent the ongoing struggle between good and evil. When you give into one or the other, your life tilts off balance. Give me your palm."

He held up his left hand. She traced the lines of it with her fingers, kneading the smooth, white flesh, before looking up into his eyes. "Hmmm," she mused. "Just as I thought…"

"You don't need to say it," he said hotly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I know what I am."

Her brow furrowed. "What is it you think you are?"

"…A monster."

She patted his arm, smiling. "Funny, because I don't see any monster lines. In fact, all of your lines say otherwise. The man I see before me is NOT evil. If the Sephiroth before you yielded to evil, then you are his manifestation of goodness and humility that he sought to eliminate."

"Then I'm only a remnant," he said, shaking his head. "What good can I possibly do?"

"You are your own person. When the time comes, you will have to choose between this and the darkness, just as your past life battled the light and chose a life of shadows. I won't lie and tell you it will be easy. I only pray that you will make the right choice."

The storm abated, and outside all was quiet and still. Someone pounded on the front door, and Grandma Flori tottered over, resuming her feeble grandmother act. It was Mai, the eldest of her two granddaughters. Her clothes were wet and her long, dark hair clung to her face in inky swirls. She didn't see Sephiroth, hidden in the shadows, but he heard the tears in her voice as she spoke quickly.

"Acacius has been kidnapped by the Turks! Dad still hasn't come back and Mom doesn't know what to do…" she broke off and sobbed.

"Come in child," Grandma Flori hushed, taking the girl by the arm. Mai spotted Sephiroth, and stood rigidly, glaring at him with contempt. Her grandmother gave her a cup of hot tea, mostly for her to hold, since she was shaking. Grandma Flori asked, "Now, slow down, and tell me what has happened."

Mai's eyes darted to Sephiroth, then she clutched her teacup tightly, wiped away fresh tears intermingled with rainwater, and said, "It was those boys, the two troublemakers. They told the Turks about, about h-him-" she pointed to Sephiroth, "-and how he was s-staying with us. They're looking for him, and now they think we've been hiding him, and they f-found Acacius and kidnapped him!" She broke off sobbing again. The Turks had only taken one other person from their island, and they never saw nor heard from him again. Grandma Flori sat down on the family hammock-sofa, her head in her hands.

"They hit him," Mai kept sobbing. "I saw it. They cornered him in an alley like wolves. I tried to stop them, but mother dragged me away…"

"Hush now!" Grandma Flori hissed. "Act your age, girl." She sat her down on the couch-hammock and murmured, "If only Bali were here…"

"What should we do?" Mai asked, twisting to look into her grandmother's eyes.

"I…I'm not sure yet. Give me a moment." The old woman lowered her head into one hand, massaging her forehead.

Unsatisfied, Mai stiffened and turned to Sephiroth, her eyes shooting daggers. "This is YOUR fault. We'll never see him again!" she wailed, and, in a fit of hysteria, the teenage girl rushed him and swung her fist back. As she brought it down, Sephiroth stopped her wrist in thin air, catching her just before she could land the punch aimed at his chest. Shocked, Mai took a deep, rattling breath, the muscles in her arm weakening. He released her from his grip.

"I will make this right," he said. "I promise."

"You had better," Mai seethed, storming over to her grandmother and placing her hands on the old woman's shoulders.

"I give you my word," he insisted. "It's me they want, after all." He strode over to the door, his hand resting on the wood, fingers splayed. He looked at Grandma Flori, still resting with her head in her hand, and said, "Thank you again. For all you've done. I will remember what you said."

"Gods be with you," the old woman gave her blessing, making a strange cutting gesture in the air with her hand raised. Even the high-spirited grandmother had her limits, it seemed. He nodded once and left the little island house he had briefly called a home. After a minute or two, Grandma Flori collected her wits and went over to her fortune-telling table. The dagger she had previously taken from him was missing.

"Grandma?" Mai asked tentatively. "Are you...laughing?"

The old woman picked up the two shells, which were set down where the dagger had been. She said nothing as she tossed them into the fireplace and hastily built a fire.

* * *

><p>(AN: Part one of two of the Sephiroth update. ;) )


	27. Zephyr

Chapter 27: Zephyr

Acacius would later thank the gods he had lost consciousness early on. He didn't hear the dull, thwacking impact of the man's fist, like a cleaver sinking into a frozen hunk of meat. At some point the man forsook using his playing cards as razorblades and settled for more old-fashioned methods. The brunette Turk, Denise, witnessed the beating, a rock churning in her stomach. But she knew better than to interfere with one of Ace's outbursts of rage. When she heard the boy's cheekbone crack, her anger spilled over.

"_Enough_!" She wiped her sweating hands on her jacket as Ace lowered his fist and stepped away from the crumpled form of the boy. She tried not to look at his swollen face, barely recognizable now that it was turning purple and yellow, at the playing cards embedded in his hands and arms, nor at the dark puddle of urine slowly spreading out from under him in the sand.

Gods, was he dead? No, she thought as he moaned softly. Her fingers strayed to the gun tucked in the belt of her blue pinstripe pants. It would be more merciful to shoot him than to let him live with those injuries.

"Damn. Lost control again," Ace swore, bringing a bloody glove to the inside of his jacket and retrieving a rag. He saw the disgust in her face and growled, "Don't look at me like that! Just because you're Azazel's woman, you act like you got a stick up that bony ass of yours."

"I don't pretend to care about your dirty fighting, your foul mouth, or the way you treat your whores," she said coldly, and knelt by the injured boy, turning her back to Ace. "We only torture when we need to…"

"The little fuck could have killed us all! Hiding a ticking time bomb…it's what he deserves." He kicked a clod of dirt at Acacius, and Denise jumped up, drawing her double-barreled gun in a flash.

"Don't think I won't," she said with an edge to her voice as Ace grinned. She may as well have been pointing her finger at him, and not a weapon that was capable of blowing his head off at the neckline.

"So high and mighty," he chuckled. "You've no problem torturing grown men, but throw in a kid who only just switched to boxers a month ago, and we have a problem. Pedophile."

She didn't even have a reply to that. Unable to contain her loathing and seriously considering shooting Ace in the balls, she finished wiping some of the blood out of the boy's eyes and checked his pulse. It was weak, but there was a chance he would live. She got up and walked to the rim of their hideaway, which overlooked the village. Their hovercraft was parked on the beach behind them. The boy's father's ship had returned to town port over an hour ago. It was supposed to be a simple trade-off—the boy, for the stranger they were hiding. Now Ace had to go and lose his fucking temper and complicate things, she seethed. Nox would not be pleased…and she was already pissed with how long they were taking.

Maybe they shouldn't have gotten those two boys to spy for them and just gone in and…what? Kidnap Sephiroth? The idea was laughable. They had no idea how he would react, though the two boys had assured them he was as docile as a lamb. Personally, she didn't believe a word of it. She'd seen a Zenith Infantry sleeper agent awaken by mistake and nearly tear a woman's face off with his bare hands. That kind of Shinra-era programming didn't just go away…no, it was better if he delivered himself to them. And he seemed to truly care for that family. That inhuman monster...or his clone. It baffled her, but who was she question the bizarre programming of Shinra? She was just following orders. Then why did she have this horrible feeling?

"Something's gone wrong," she said, her eyes wide and fearful. "Where is Azazel with the boy's father?"

"Finally come to that conclusion, eh?" Ace sneered. "C'mon, let's go into town and see where the fuck that old man has gotten to…probably forgot and wandered off."

"I'll tell him you said that."

"Tell me what?" came a coarse voice from the jungle. Out stepped a middle-aged man with graying hair tied into a samurai knot, his katana gripped in his left hand, which was stained green and blue with a fish scale tattoo. He shoved a tan, thin man with handcuffs on in front of him. Azazel took one look at Acacius, and the slightest hint of displeasure crossed his grizzled face.

"What kept you?" Ace demanded.

"What happened here?" Azazel returned, a dangerous pitch to his voice as he looked upon the boy's mangled face. They were interrupted by a sudden scream of despair from the man.

"Acacius!" Bali shouted. Azazel's sword tip pressed against his kidney, and he shut his mouth. His body shivered with outrage.

"Lost my temper is all," Ace replied.

"I see," Azazel growled, standing by Denise. She gave him a knowing look and unstrapped a shotgun from her back. "Let's try and get back to business, then," he said.

"Right. The world's only about to end, but we can't forget about business." Ace laughed, throwing the bloody handkerchief on the ground. Denise wondered if he was starting to lose it.

Azazel tapped Bali's side with his sword. The fisherman winced and turned to face him.

"If you want the boy to live," he said, gesturing to Acacius with the katana. "You better explain why you were keeping a wanted fugitive in your house."

Denise could already tell the man had no idea what he was talking about. He merely gaped at them as if they were demons. The rock in her stomach turned bitter cold and a bad taste filled her mouth. She just wanted this to be over. She could sense her husband felt the same way. He was being less theatrical than usual.

"I swear, I don't know what you're talking about," Bali said.

"Do you even know who the man staying with you is?" Ace asked.

"No! I have been away," Bali croaked. "I swear, I didn't know…"

"This is a waste of time," Denise said to Azazel. "Let's just go to their house, find him, and be done with it."

"Your son harbored a wanted man. An escaped prisoner," Azazel continued. "He is incredibly dangerous. You're lucky everyone on this island is still alive."

Bali took a surprised, shuddering breath and said, "I'm telling you, I had no idea! I'm sure m-my son didn't, either." He swallowed back tears. "But you've killed him anyway! You're nothing but thugs."

"Check this guy out." Ace gave a mirthless chuckle. "He's got some balls, calling the Turks thugs…"

"Ace, shut up," Denise snapped. "Bali, is it? Your son is alive."

"I don't believe you!" Bali roared.

"Hold your tongue," Azazel hissed. He pressed down, hard, on Bali between the shoulder blades with the butt of his sword, bringing the man to his knees. "For your ignorance, the penalty is death. That is Zenith's law. However, I will lift this sentence, if you do as we say."

"Anything you want!" Bali pleaded. "Just don't kill him…"

"Go back to your house. There is a man staying there. Tell him to come with you and bring him here," Azazel instructed, his blade a mere hair's width from the man's throat. "If he doesn't comply, tell him we will kill the boy. He won't resist you."

"T-that's all?" Bali asked. "Then you will leave us alone?"

"You must never mention the man to anyone," Azazel said. "Or we will come back and finish the job. Now get up."

He let Bali stand. He gazed, horror-stricken, at his son's torn and swollen face, his body slumped against a wooden post. Azazel removed his handcuffs and pointed towards the path leading back to town.

"Go. And be sure to not let anyone see either of you, or we'll make sure no one lives to tell about it."

"No need," a stranger's voice rang from the shadows. As Bali stepped into the jungle, his path was blocked by a tall, silver-haired man. The Turks pulled out their weapons and Ace yelled for Bali to get out of the way. Bali ducked down and ran over to his son's side. Sephiroth took in Acacius's wasted form, then turned back to the Turks. Denise saw something in the man's face that terrified her, even more than Ace's wrath.

"Well well. Who's this?" Ace chimed. "Looks like our guest found his way here. You wanna come with us quietly?" He held up a card—the Jack of Clubs. "Or should we make a spectacle of this?"

Azazel and Denise tightened their grip on their weapons. Sephiroth stepped into the clearing, walking towards them. He was armed only with a dagger, which he held at his side.

"I was going to go with you peacefully," he began, glancing at Acacius. A burning hatred swarmed up inside of him, made him see red. "But you don't seem interested in being civil. Why should I?"

Crimson lines flashed through the air—Ace threw the cards so fast they lost all shape and form and could have been laser blasts. Azazel rushed him at the same time. Sephiroth deflected the first two cards, the third nicking his forehead. Blood dribbled into his eye as Azazel brought a whirlwind of sword strokes down on him. Sephiroth countered them with the dagger, but it did little to absorb the impact, sending iron rods of pain through his arm and sparks shooting through the air. Azazel intensified his attack, slashing at his midsection. He jumped, flying over the man's head, and with the dull dagger grabbed Ace's arm and plunged the dagger into his leg, up to the hilt.

Ace roared in pain and fell to one knee. Sephiroth felt the tip of Denise's gun as it pressed into the nape of his neck. Blood trailed down his jaw line and dripped onto the ground.

"Fight's over," she said breathlessly. "Come with us."

"No…don't…" Acacius rasped. The boy squinted at Sephiroth through one slit eye, his lips working slowly to get the words out. "Don't…go…" he mouthed.

Denise winced and said, "Just be quiet, kid…SHIT!" Something yanked her gun out of her hands and flung it across the clearing.

"Who's there?" Azazel roared. A cloaked figure emerged from the jungle, holding a metal coil. They brought a metal rod to their lips and blew. A dart sunk into Azazel's neck, followed by Ace. Denise saw nothing but a black hood and red hair before she went unconscious. The cloaked one approached Acacius with a needle held aloft. Bali threw himself in front of his son.

"Leave him alone!" he cried.

"If you don't let me, he will die," a wispy, feminine voice said severely, showing him the blue liquid inside the needle. She added, "This is water from a very sacred pool. It will heal him."

Bali shook his head, but Acacius's fingers wrapped around his hand. "Ok…dad." Bali moved aside and the woman administered an injection into the worst of his son's wounds. In a matter of moments, the swelling went down, giving him a human appearance again.

"Thank you," Bali said. The woman muttered a soft 'you're welcome' and went over to Sephiroth. Her face was hidden by a cowl, most of her body covered by the tattered, raven cloak. Burgundy hair fell in wavy curls from under the hood, and her hands were protected by a pair of old, silver gauntlets.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Let's deal with them first," she said, nodding at the bodies of the Turks. "What would you do with them, hmm?"

He paused to consider. A minute ago, he had been ready to kill them all. Now, unconscious and unable to fight, they didn't make for an exciting battle. That didn't mean the temptation to kill wasn't there…he shook his head and wiped away fresh blood. In the end, he helped her bind the bodies and strip them of their weapons (including the dagger in the brute's leg). Then they boarded the hovercraft. He watched with slight intrigue as the woman programmed a course into the navigation system. The doors shut automatically as they left. The hovercraft powered up and sailed away, leaving the three Turks effectively stranded on an island full of people that hated their guts.

"You have yet to answer my question," he reminded her as they walked back to the clearing. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Someone who knows a lot more than she should," she replied curtly. "If you want help remembering your past, and if you want answers, you must come with me."

He frowned. "Just because you saved my life doesn't mean I trust you."

"Maybe so. But they won't stop hunting you," the woman said.

"Who are 'they'?"

"It's complicated. If you want to know more, come and find me in a little cave by the beach, just to the northwest of here." She slunk off into the jungle before he could get another word in, and before Bali could thank her for saving them. Bali rose and delivered a deep bow to Sephiroth instead.

"For protecting me and my son, you have my thanks," he said.

"Your son saved my life," Sephiroth replied. "It is he that deserves the thanks." He bowed to Acacius. The boy coughed into his sleeve and said,

"Guess we're even now."

As he looked upon the boy's wounds, he felt the exchange was hardly fair. But there was nothing else he could do. The silence that passed between them stretched on for too long. Sephiroth nodded once, then turned slowly and swept a large fern leaf aside as he followed the woman's trail.

"Who was that man?" Bali asked his son, helping bring him to his feet. The boy's complexion was returning to normal, the medicine taking the swelling out of his eyes and the bruising out of his cheeks. If Bali hadn't been so distracted by the recently transpired events, he would have realized his son's face was healing at a rate not known to modern medicine, and a slight teal tinge to his son's eyes.

"He doesn't remember," Acacius answered, digging the toe of his shoe into the ribs of one of the Turks. "I guess we'll never know."

* * *

><p>The cave was on the beach and to the northwest, just as the woman had said. He found her kicking ashes onto a small fire. She led him to her boat, which was partially camouflaged with seaweed. The name painted on the side read 'Zephyr'. She prepped it for their departure. It was a small, fast vessel built for one person, and two was pushing it. He wished he had thought twice about sending that hovercraft away. The ocean sprayed him as they sailed at top speeds, the wind rushing past him in torrents. The compass near the helm pointed west. After the island of Zardiel vanished behind them, the ship slowed and the engine quieted. The cloaked woman finally sat down and revealed her face to him. He felt a sharp sting of disappointment. He didn't recognize her at all.<p>

"Why have you come for me?" he asked. "I want answers. Now."

"I've been watching you for some time," she began. "You're lucky I found you when I did. The Turks were already casing the house you were staying at. But never mind that. I'll start with my story for now."

She raised her teal eyes to the sky, which was collecting storm clouds in the distance. That was to the north. But it would be closing in on them shortly if they didn't hurry…


	28. Cosmo Canyon Revisited

Chapter 28: Cosmo Canyon Revisited

"Yeeeaah, Amon! Take it off!" Iris whooped, her hands cupped to the sides of her mouth. She was giddy with nerves for their upcoming desert trek tomorrow. On a hilltop at the crest of the great forest, Amon wriggled his way out of his pants and hung them from a tree branch. The moon was half full, shining plenty of light. She felt more like a voyeur than a friend making sure her best friend owned up. He darted behind some tall bushes and peered out from behind them.

"Well?" she drawled.

"Go away!" Amon barked, his voice cracking with indignation. "I need a second."

She rolled her eyes, not that he could see her, calling, "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet. It's been five days! A deal's a deal and I beat you fair and square."

"I SAID GIMME A SECOND! This sucks…"

"All right, geeze," she pouted. Amon tipped a bottle of whiskey (courtesy of Ten) to his lips and stalked off into the forest again, swearing enough to make a Corelian miner blush. She heard Kai's light footsteps behind her and felt the woman's warm fingertips on her shoulders as she leaned against her.

"Hope I haven't missed anything." She giggled, then hiccuped loudly. Ten's whiskey had been generously passed around, though Iris hadn't had any. They had a long journey through the red desert ahead of them, and she'd be damned if she was gonna be hungover for it. Wasn't that how this all started, anyway? With a hangover and a desert. Well, more of a manmade wasteland than a desert. She lowered herself face-to-face with Kai and winked.

"I think he's got stage fright."

"Oh no!" Kai moaned. "I was looking forward to the show…"

"Yeah…so was-" She started, then shut her mouth. She folded her arms against her chest and asked, "Er, how old are you, anyway?"

Kai's eyebrows shot up. "WELL! That's hardly an appropriate question…but if you must know, I'm twenty-three. What about you?"

"Me? I'll be nineteen in-" she faltered, realizing her birthday was closer than she'd expected. It felt like only yesterday when she and Amon, plus a few of their fellow biker-and-ass-kicking enthusiast friends, had celebrated her eighteenth in a slum bar in Neo Midgar. Now THAT had been a party. Of course, she would probably never see any of those people again. It was a sobering thought, and she was already too sober for her liking. She patted Kai on the shoulder and gently pushed her off, making sure the pirate had her land legs. She scoffed and said, "He's chickened out. I'm going back to camp."

Kai's glassy eyes wandered off into the distance expectantly. She shook her head. "All—_hic_!—right. I'll join you in a sec."

Iris didn't reply as she pushed a fan-shaped leaf out of her face and walked away. She headed for camp, following the dim, orange light from their small campfire. Her mood didn't improve as she walked right into a spider web the size of a trashcan lid. She stalked into camp pulling sticky silk strands out of her hair. As usual, Vincent Valentine was missing. Ren-Ten and Shou bent over a tree stump, playing some kind of game involving cards and coconut halves.

"Amon wussed out," Iris complained as she plopped down by the fire. Ten grunted, clearly not amused by such antics, and Shou was too busy concentrating on the game to care, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. She sighed and rested her chin in her palm, gazing into the embers of the fire. A few yards away, the chocobos had tucked themselves down for the night, warbling softly in their sleep. She wondered where Vincent had gone off to. Perhaps it had something to do with his transformations. Every time she approached him on the issue, he evaded her in that shy, distant manner of his. But tomorrow they would set foot into the infamous desert, where there was little room to hide. What would that shapeshifter do then?

More importantly, what was SHE going to do when they got to Cosmo Canyon? What if the place was deserted? She'd be left without a scroll she couldn't read and a useless materia orb. Just when the despair was beginning to creep up on her again, Kai sauntered into the campsite and put Ten's whiskey down on the tree stump, then picked up her scimitar and strapped it to her side. She was quiet and grim, and Iris wondered if she was feeling sick.

"Let me guess," Ten said, never taking his eyes off the game. Shou had wandering hands that liked to move things when one wasn't looking. "This is about that fool of a boy…"

"No," Kai murmured, so that Iris had to strain to hear her. "S'not that. I heard something moving through the tree-"

She was cut off by the crashing and screeching of branches being torn apart. An enormous wolf, swathed in shadow, bounded between Iris and the rest of the group. Its hollow, white eyes leered at her and its jowls pulled back into a fanged grin.

"Shit!" Ten swore, jumping to his feet and knocking his and Shou's game over. Playing cards fluttered into the air. Iris snatched her heavy fighting gloves with her materia equipped and raised her fists. Lyall stepped into view, a vicious smile on his face.

"You!" Ten spat. "Zenith dog. How long you been followin' us?"

"Finally," Lyall remarked, ignoring him. The wolf paced back and forth between Iris and the others. "Do you have _any_ idea how long I-"

"WOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOO!"

Iris jumped in fright as Amon galloped through the campsite on Sly. Correction, ALL of Amon galloped by on Sly, in all his birthday-suit glory. He streaked past Lyall, who stepped aside just in time to avoid getting bowled over by a naked metal-armed man riding a chocobo. The wolf apparition snarled, so loud it boomed in Iris's ears, and Sly skidded to a stop, nearly pitching his rider over. The others gaped at him, and Shou, hiding behind Ten, smothered a laugh into his elbow.

"Welcome back," Kai said sheepishly, waving.

"Eheh." Amon shifted uncomfortably on his ride, craning his head around. "Guess this was the wrong time…"

"RIGHT!" Lyall extended a hand and shot a blast of dark energy at him. Sly let out a battle cry, but Amon grabbed the reins and steered the bird into the cover of the forest. The energy ball struck the tree line, knocking several trees asunder, splinters and leaves raining down on them. Iris launched herself at the grinning, dark-eyed Turk, throwing punches, but Lyall brought up a wall of the same dark energy, and her fists met nothing but air as the shield pushed her back.

"You know it was pretty stupid of you to attack all five of us!" she yelled.

"Yeah," Ten joined in, three daggers layered between the fingers of his right hand. "Where're your buddies? I wanna rematch against your card-throwin' friend."

"They've been reassigned," he answered flatly. Before Iris could wonder about his tone, he faced her, a wicked smile on his lips. "Besides, I can handle you imbeciles on my own."

"Idiot. That's where you're wrong!" Iris swept her arms back, casting Fire at him. Lyall's shield disintegrated with a boom. The wolf was after her in seconds, biting and snapping before she could cast again. She narrowly avoided those black fangs as Kai raised her sword in the air, performing a spell she'd never seen her use before. Two jets of icy wind flew out of the sword tip. Tentacles soared from behind Lyall, deflecting the spell, but it struck the shadow wolf in the rear flank. The apparition spun around and lunged at Kai, snarling.

"All materia," Lyall grunted, swiping a loose strand of his black hair back into place. "Good, but not good enough." Tendrils of darkness lashed out in different directions. Ten ducked, Shou dove to the side, but Kai was too distracted by the wolf. Iris jumped in front of her, cast Lightning and kicked at the same time, delivering enough force to redirect Lyall's energy. There was an explosion of blinding blue light. While her vision recovered, a cloud of bats peeled off Lyall's energy aura, flying rapidly towards her. She dodged the new aerial assault, but the bats were relentless, diving and biting at her face. She pooled her energy and cast Fire again, enough to deter the swarm for a second, and enough space for her to see a wave of darkness sweep Ten and Shou off their feet. She heard their startled cries as the fire went out, and then they were fighting blind.

_Damn,_ she thought. _Where does he get such energy?_

A wingtip grazed her cheek. She ducked low and cast Fire again and again, feeling her own strength drain from her body with each spell. The last blast ate up the bats, but now she had drained her magic reserves and, to make matters worse, she couldn't see Lyall or anyone else. A blaze of red as Ten scorched another tentacle, then the ground cracked as his Earth spell transformed the ground beneath Lyall's feet into an explosion of rock. But the Turk was fleeter than any of them, and he dodged the volley of rocks as easily as if someone had blown a handful of feathers at him.

"COME ON!" Ten bellowed, blocking yet another whip-crack from Lyall. Before the Turk could strike again, Iris spotted an opening, as did Ten. His dagger flew in a silver line, as Iris delivered a spinning kick from behind. Lyall jumped, as high as Iris had on the wreck of the Dominator, and landed behind Kai, still fighting the wolf. Before she could get to him, he had a blade made of dark energy pressed against her throat. Above his head, an orb of purplish-red light cast an eerie glow.

"Gotcha," he said in her ear, then looked up and said in a biting, commanding voice, "Now put that down before someone gets hurt." The wolf turned, baring its fangs, preventing any of them from rescuing her. Kai glared at him from the corner of her eye, but there was nothing she could do. She lowered her weapon, dropping it to the ground. Lyall kicked it away from them and grabbed a handful of the pirate's hair, yanking her head back.

"Ah! That hurts, you bastard!"

"Are you all deaf as well as stupid?" Lyall snarled. "I said drop your weapons!"

Ten's daggers clattered to the ground. Iris threw her gloves to the ground and Shou dropped his materia.

"Let her go!" Iris demanded. "I'll come with you, just don't hurt her!"

"Sorry, but those aren't my orders," he said smoothly. "I'm going to put an end to your friends' interference, and you're coming with me back the lab."

"I'll die before I go back there!" she spat.

"That would be a shame." Lyall glanced to his left and right. Kai, still jelly-legged from drinking, struggled to maintain her footing to keep from falling on his sword. Lyall announced loudly, "We seem to be missing two of your party! I would kindly inform them to stay away. Although this pirate bitch is wanted on every continent…I would be doing the world a favor to execute her."

"Fuck you," Kai growled. She ground her teeth as the blade pressed in, drawing blood. Amon's distressed, muffled cry reached them from somewhere nearby, inside the forest.

"Amon, stay back!" Iris yelled. "Vincent, if you can hear me, stay away!" She turned to Lyall, licked her dry lips, and balled her hands into fists.

"I'll go with you," she told him, those familiar words a bitter acid in her mouth. "Let Kai go first."

"That's more like it." He lifted his blade and shoved Kai forward. The pirate shot him a baleful glare, pressing her sleeve to her throat, and took a few ginger steps forward. Sword poised against her back, Lyall's wolf continued to menace Ten and Shou, while several tentacles crept from the shadows and began to wrap around Iris's legs. She jerked and tried to kick them off of her, but Lyall raised a finger.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

It took all of her willpower to stay still. Chills sailed up her spine but she allowed the darkness to envelop her, then she was pulled forward by it. More ropes slithered from his nebulous, hooded aura and tightened into coils around her arms, shoulders, and torso. It felt like cold, slimy eels constricting her body. She sucked in a breath and shut her eyes.

"Iris, no!" Shou wailed. He started to run towards her, but Ten grabbed him by the collar.

As she was lifted off the ground, Amon screamed again. She tried to say his name, but the darkness smothered her. She inhaled smoke. Her friends' surprised yells rang, followed by a thrumming, bestial roar.

_I'm going to suffocate…_Her mind went strangely calm. Something smelled of perfume, of white and yellow flowers. The inhuman creature roared again, then sound faded as she fell into nothingness.

* * *

><p>Iris sat up, her body soaked in sweat. The sun was a great ball of yellow flame in the sky. She was lying in the shade of an enormous red rock. Shou was curled up, fast asleep beside her. All of her friends, except for Vincent, lay in a dazed slumber. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and noticed something odd about the way their bodies were positioned. They were lined up, the way her old cat would lay dead birds on her windowsill. She could see the drag marks their bodies made in the sand. They were surrounded by rust-colored sand dunes, and in the distance, she could barely make out the line of the forest. Or were those heat waves?<p>

Their things were gone, including their weapons. Her hand shot to her pocket. Her fingers closed around the materia, still cold despite the oppressive heat. It provided little relief—the scroll was missing.

"What the hell happened?" she asked aloud, her voice cracking. She leaned over her friends, shaking Shou by the shoulder. "HELLO? Can anyone hear me?"

A bellowing roar came from behind her. She whirled around and stood up, then immediately fell to the ground, her legs trembling. Her head pounded and her vision swam, but in the glare of the sun and the haze of her sickness, she could make out three shadowy forms headed towards her. They were big, treading low to the ground, and certainly not human.

_Shit. I've got to wake them up!_ She tried shouting, but nothing came out of her parched throat. The exertion and panic made her headache worse, and her stomach folded in on itself. She leaned away from them and dry heaved in the sand. _Great, I'm going to die puking my guts up. Thus ends the great legacy of Iris Strife, heroine of the ages…_

Instead of dying, however, the thing that walked towards her dropped a green, spiky lump into her hands. Cactus needles pricked her fingers and she sat back, coming face-to-face with a…a what?

Two great yellow eyes lined with white fur stared at her from beneath a Mohawk of brown hair. The creature had a cat's face, but it was unlike any cat she had ever seen. Its face was longer than a cat's, with no whiskers, more canine than feline, and its body was long and lean, with powerful shoulders. Its white fangs hung out from a pair of black jowls, perfect for crushing in the throat of its prey. A mane of brown hair began from its forehead and traveled down its spine to mid-shoulder.

Two more cat-dog creatures emerged from the river of heat waves, one of dark red fur, with a black mane like a male lion, the other with slate-colored fur and a burgundy-colored mane, much leaner and longer than the other two. The tips of their long tails were lit with a glowing flame instead of the bottlebrush hair that should have been there.

The two creatures that approached growled to one another. The one that faced her turned away and growled back. After a few more exchanges, she realized they were communicating to one another in some guttural cat language. She watched their faces carefully and saw eye contact, sways and nods of the head, and flicks of the tail. Almost as if they were having a conversation, with quirks and everything.

_I must be tripping_, she thought. She moved to sit up, but the cats tensed instantly and one of them gave a sharp warning growl that made her ears ring. The dark one with the black mane padded over to her, and her eyes watched its enormous front paws spread out easily over the sand. This one was definitely male, and had a goatee of hair at end of its jaw, making him seem almost devilish. The nose was slit black, the muzzle long and sharp, and the eyes were ice-blue. Its body was covered in black tattoo markings. It had a golden hair clip behind its left ear, where hawk feathers hung and shiny, vibrant beads were strung on lengths of leather. Not just any ordinary glass beads. Materia.

The cat's claws extended. Those black hooks shot out at her, and she drew back to try and avoid the deadly blow. Instead of killing her, the cat lowered its paw and pierced the green cactus blob before her. Water leaked out of the holes.

"Drink," the cat-creature said, in a surprisingly genteel voice.

_Okay, now I know I'm tripping. Lyall must have poisoned me_, she thought dazedly. _That cat-dog just told me to drink this cactus. Well, it is really freaking hot…_

She looked down at the moist spot where the water had dripped, and became blatantly aware of her severe thirst. She lifted the cactus gently and tipped it over, letting the water pour into her mouth, reviving her parched taste buds and throat. Clarity flowed back into her as her thirst was slacked. Three more cat creatures bounded down from the red rock, dropping off more cactus balls.

_Oh, now I get it,_ she thought with a smirk on her face, looking at the line her friends formed. _Cats always line up their "prizes."_

She shook her head and dropped the cactus. Amon was beginning to stir from his slumber. The big cats were convening around the dark one, apparently discussing something in their own language, their flame-tails swishing animatedly. She crawled slowly over to Amon, whose eyes had opened and were staring wildly at their new company. Before he could shout, she put a hand over his mouth. She lay next to him and he whispered in her ear,

"What the hell are those things? Why aren't we dead?"

"I think they're asking the same question," she whispered back. "They gave me something to drink, and…uh, one of them spoke to me."

He brought a hand to her forehead. "Did you have a heat stroke?"

She clamped her hand over his. "This is serious. Help me wake the others." They sat up. Amon coughed and doubled over, clutching at his stomach. They tried to wake the others, to no avail.

"What's wrong with them?" she asked. "Is it the heat?"

"Sleeping spell," Amon said, picking up a cactus. He held up the pinky on his metal arm, the tip of which shifted into a point, and poked a hole in the cactus. He used his arm blade to shear the needles off the cactus before drinking his fill of the water inside. "Those dogs-"

"Cats," she corrected, holding up two fingers on each hand by the side of her head to imitate cat ears.

"They're obviously dogs." Amon pointed to his nose.

Iris twirled a finger by her eyes in a circle. "You're obviously an idiot."

"Whatever!" he snarled, smacking her hand away. "Those…THINGS…attacked me in the woods while I was trying to put my pants on."

She snorted as she remembered the conditions by which he came to be in the woods, but he glared at her and she shut up. He continued,

"They dragged me into camp. One of them used Sleep All and knocked us out."

"What about Lyall?"

"He got away."

"Fuck." Iris let her head drop into the crook of her arm. Why couldn't they just kill that jackass and be done with it? The Turks were even more cowardly than she thought. Though, they would probably just call it a "gratuitous sense of self-preservation" or some other trussed-up formality.

"What about Vincent? Have you seen him?" she asked. Amon shook his head. She sat back and groaned. "Our chocobos…"

"Probably long gone," he lamented. "Or worse, eaten."

"Shut up!" she hissed. "I don't want to think about that…hey, Shou!"

Shou sat up, took one look at the cat-creatures, and said sleepily, "What's with the dogs? Are we dead?"

Amon shot Iris a victorious stare. She held a finger to her lips at Shou. "Talk quietly, we don't want to alarm them. But I think they're deciding whether they want to eat us or let us go."

The boy coughed and said, "Gods, something's always trying to kill us," before laying back down and going back to sleep. She and Amon watched the creatures convene. It was well into midday, and they were lounging about in the shade, napping or otherwise not expending any energy. Not a one said another word in human language, and Iris was beginning to think she really had imagined things. Gradually, Ten, Kai, and Shou all woke up as the sun was sinking on the horizon. Kai, too hung over to do much of anything, drank some water and lay back down, commenting that they should only wake her if the cat people started eating them.

Once Ten had something to drink, he wiped his beard and looked around. He appeared pensive for a moment, then nodded towards the creatures and asked, "How long have they been around?"

"All day," Iris told him.

"And they haven't killed us. Well, tha's a good sign." Ten stretched, not a single line of worry on his face.

"What are they?" Amon asked.

"WHAT? Y'mean you don't know?" Ten gawked at them in disbelief. Both Iris and Amon folded their arms and shot him dirty looks. "Gods, you two really do need a history lesson. You been livin' in the city far too long."

He stood up and hailed the big cat that had spoken to Iris earlier. She braced herself for the attack, but it never came. Instead, the dark-furred leader said something to Ten, who waved for them to come over. Amon helped Kai to her feet as Iris and Shou walked cautiously over to the group of cat creatures.

"Ready to travel?" the slate-colored one asked them. This one's voice was as a big cat's should sound—deep, guttural, and frightening under different circumstances. "It's a long way. Make use of the night while you can."

"Uhhh…" Amon iterated what Kai, Shou, Iris were all thinking.

"We need to get to Cosmo Canyon," Iris spoke up. "Can you show us the way?"

The leader growled, flashing his elongated, saber-tooth fangs. "It is not in our nature to accept outsiders. Cosmo Canyon's been closed off to humans for some time. But we have spared your lives, thanks to your caped friend."

Her eyes widened. "Vincent? Have you seen him?"

"He has gone ahead of you," the leader answered, with a brief nod of its brow. "And asked us to guide you to the Canyon. Were he not friends with our chieftain, we would have killed you in your sleep."

"I'll have to remember to give Vincent my thanks," Kai croaked, and Amon snickered. The humor was lost on the cat creatures, and Iris was a tad grateful that they didn't detect sarcasm.

"What about our stuff?" Amon asked. "We had weapons, and materia, and gil. And…" He glanced off to the side, avoiding Kai's and Iris's gaze. "And clothes."

"What we could salvage we have also arranged to be at the Canyon when you arrive," the leader answered.

"Lyall was kind enough to set fire to our things before he ran away like a lil' bitch," Ten said to them. "Scared the chocobos off, too."

"I'll get him," Kai growled, swearing something under her breath. "If it's the last thing I do. That's twice now he's inconvenienced me."

"You call being locked up in jail an 'inconvenience'?" Amon eyed her dubiously.

"Shut it, you nudist," she muttered, smiling, and Amon's face flushed.

"Excuse me," Iris interrupted, and stepped in front of the leader. "Did any of you happen to find an old piece of parchment? It's really important."

Her companions fells silent. In the confusion of the aftermath and waking up in the desert, they had forgotten the most important thing in their possession.

The leader flicked his tail. "You caped friend had it clutched in his hand when he left for the Canyon."

They all breathed a collective sigh of relief. Iris wanted to ask him more, but the leader made it clear that the time to talk was over. The cat creatures began to pace, and Iris felt their impatience begin to rub off on her. She unwound her belt and tied two cactus balls inside it, and the others did the same. Then they set off, heading northward. The journey to Cosmo Canyon would take approximately two days, the cats said, if they were fast and traveled all night.

"One more thing," the leader craned his great, fanged muzzle towards them, his eyes glittering in the twilight. "No flames. Fires attract scavengers and other unwanted eyes."

"Hypocrite," Shou said once the cat was out of earshot. The cats' tails glowed brightly, but as the sun set and darkness emerged, they were able to dim their bioluminescence until Iris could barely see them. The first night was incredibly cool, and she was thankful that they weren't sleeping. Without a fire it would have been downright freezing. Moving across the dunes was clumsy going. They were sweating within the first hour, and Iris already felt thirst creeping up on her again.

It took all their self-control to avoid drinking anything the first few hours. After they stopped in a depression between two dunes, Iris broke open a cactus and drained it. It wasn't nearly enough. She tossed the empty cactus aside and watched the others, who all wore the same disappointed look. After they had quieted down (and there wasn't much conversation to begin with, as it made one more thirsty), she noticed an empty, ringing sound coming off the tops of the dunes.

"What is that?" she wondered aloud, the hairs on the back of her neck erect.

"It sounds like singing," Shou said, looking around. They all stood there, listening, to the hollow sound that rang out whenever the wind blew. Iris rubbed her arms and tried to tune it out, but there was no ignoring the mournful, empty sound.

"That is the song of our ancestors," one of the cats said, perched atop a nearby dune. "The collected voice of generations past. It travels across this desert, to ward off evildoers."

"I hope it works," Iris murmured to Amon as the cat vanished over the other side of the dune.

The following morning they reached the end of the dunes. Now the landscape was rocky and flat, and they found themselves watching their step for scorpions and snakes. The only plants were dry and useless, sticking up out of the ground in shriveled tufts, or growing in thick, thorny tangles. The ground gave way in hazardous fissures and cliffs, but the cats helped them navigate their way down a deep gorge.

They kept going until mid-morning, when the sun was almost directly above them. Their party took shelter in the shade while the hottest hours of the day passed. They spent the next hours taking sips from their precious cactus canteens and speculating on what President Mercer and Zenith Inc. were up to, what Cosmo Canyon would be like once they arrived, where Vincent had been the night Lyall attacked, on and on. Iris sat and listened, but she couldn't shake the horrible feeling in her gut.

The next night was cooler than the last. The hard ground turned from searing hot to freezing cold in little time, and they stuck close together for warmth. Hunger and fatigue made for slow going. Aside from a few walnuts Shou had stashed in his pockets, they had nothing to eat. Kai seemed to be worse for the wear. She began to stumble and list to one side, until Amon caught her.

"Take it easy," he said. "Do you want a break?"

She waved him away. "I'm fine. I'm just not used to being away from water for so long."

_We're all going to end up like her if we don't find Cosmo Canyon soon_, Iris thought. She gave Kai the rest of a cactus that she had been saving. She revived a little, enough for her to take a few steps before tripping again. At dusk, they stopped on the ledge of a mesa. The earth in the valley before them looked to have been cleft away by some giant sword stroke from the sky. And, only a few miles away, Iris spotted a shadowy growth on the ledge of the canyon. And, faintly, the tiniest orange light burned like a cigarette in the dark.

The cats led them on a trail that cut into the side of the canyon wall, a narrow strip of rock where one misstep could mean death. It was full dark when they finally arrived at Cosmo Canyon. The cats led them back up the rock face, up a long set of ancient stone steps, and onto a flat rock where a massive campfire burned steadily into the night. They dropped around the fire. The cats, all save two, remained on the edge of the rock circle to watch them. The leader and the slate-colored cat disappeared inside a cave behind them.

"Excuse me," someone said. Iris spun around and looked upon moccasins, worn on human feet. The moccasins belonged to a human female. She had tanned skin and long black hair pulled into a braid, and was wearing a frock made of a homespun, green and brown material. "My name is Ayana. I'm here to welcome you to our village."

She held up a tray with a large painted jar and five glasses. Before any of them could speak, they drained the jar of water, and Ayana went back to get a refill. While she was gone, Iris spotted several more humans traversing the wooden bridges and balconies above her. At the very top of the town (and the canyon itself), an observatory tower gaped at the stars with its massive glass eye.

"I thought there weren't supposed to be humans here?" she asked Amon.

"That's what the big dog said." He shut up as Ayana returned with more water. They drained that jar as well. Kai drank a full five glasses before she regained some of her strength. Iris, not wanting to offend the locals, got up and bowed to the woman.

"Thank you. We were not expecting human company when we got here."

The woman was silent for a moment, then a look of recognition dawned on her. "Nanaki's clan must have told you about our policy on outsiders. What they didn't tell you was that the people already here were allowed to stay."

"Makes sense," Ten grunted. "But why close it off in the first place? I thought you people were s'posed to be free thinking and accepting and all that."

"We still are," the woman said, with an air of dignity. She took a deep breath and sat down, then explained,

"It was the rest of the world that lost those two qualities. After Meteorfall, things were quiet for a long time for my ancestors. It was only a hundred years ago or so when people began to visit the canyon. They'd heard about an underground chamber with some valuable minerals inside, and thought they could trick us into letting them set up a mining operation. Others came to drill for oil in the desert. Others still came seeking knowledge, and brought with them plagues of the modern world that we strictly avoid here. Guns, drugs, and that disease—geostigma, I believe it was called."

"They were all seeking to exploit something from us. All we wanted to do was live in peace, without corruption. The great chieftain, Nananki, was patient with humans for years and years. But eventually something had to be done, or the Canyon would fall to man this time instead of the Gi, who nearly destroyed this place hundreds of years ago."

"That's right," Iris breathed, a childhood story coming back to her. Her ancestor had traveled through that death chamber. "Their tomb is beneath this place, isn't it?"

"In the darkest recesses of the canyon, yes," Ayana answered. "Nanaki's kin drove out the corrupt humans and set up a border patrol. We seldom let in anyone from the outside world. You may find this place not to your liking—we have no TV, no radio, no computers."

"I don't have a problem with that," Iris said, relieved.

"Ayana," Ten said. "We're looking for a member of our group. Have you seen a man in a red cape?"

"A man in a red cape?" Ayana repeated. "No, I'm afraid not."

The group exchanged anxious looks. Shou said, "Maybe he's just late."

"Maybe the cats changed their minds," Ten growled under his breath. "Or he couldn't take the heat and collapsed somewhere in the desert."

Iris gave him the look he usually reserved for when she did or said something stupid. "Do you really believe he just collapsed?"

Ten flicked his hand. "Who knows with that guy."

Iris sighed and rose to her feet, looking up at the observatory. The rust-colored cat with the black mane and beard emerged from the cave. Ayana bowed her head to him.

"Who among you is Iris Strife?" he boomed. Iris raised her hand. He said simply, "Come with me" before turning around and slipping back inside the cave. She shrugged to her friends, told them she would be all right, and followed the cat creature. He led her up several flights of stairs, the last of which were carved into the vertical rock face. Now she was at the top of the canyon, and could see out into the desert all around. The stars above were so numerous and so bright that it looked as though a fireworks finale had frozen into place.

The highest plateau of the desert was the perfect location for the observatory. The cat led her to the front door and bade her to go inside with a nod of his head. She stepped into a kitchen, with a wooden table and many barrels and crates scattered throughout. A ladder led up to a second floor in the ceiling. To her right was another door, but it appeared bolted closed. Sitting down at the table, she waited, until she heard a _clank, clink, clank_ and saw a pair of golden, spur-tipped boots descend the ladder, followed by the hem of a tattered red cape.

"Vincent!" she cried, rocking onto her feet.

"Iris."

"Have you got it? Did you save the scroll?"

Vincent slid down the rest of the ladder and landed softly. He dug into his cloak lining and removed the scroll, delivering it into her open hands. Fresh fresh cuts and bruises marred his cheekbones and around his eyes. She tried to keep accusation out of her voice and asked, "Where were you? Lyall attacked us."

"I am sorry," he apologized, bowing. His words were tired and he seemed strained. "I had another…transformation. It wasn't safe for me to be around the group that night."

She didn't know what to say. He looked truly awful, the worst she'd seen him yet. His clothes were badly ripped, held together by a few loose threads. His shirt, where she could see it, was bloodied in many places. Despite his wounds, he refused to sit down. She decided to change the subject and asked,

"Did you ask about the scroll? Is there anyone here that can help us?"

Vincent started to speak, then clutched at his abdomen and groaned. Only, the groan tapered off into an animalistic growl. Iris stood and offered to help him to the couch, but he kept her at bay with his free hand. From outside, an old, scratchy voice said,

"Two-hundred years and you haven't changed. You really ought to let our healer tend to those wounds."

A cat creature walked slowly into the room. His fur was gray, his body covered in rough, white patches where scars prevented the hair from growing back. He was immense, but his slow, deliberate steps revealed his age. The Mohawk of hair that appeared so full on the younger cats was thin and white as snow on this one. His eyes, perhaps once bright and yellow, were now clouded with cataracts. When he opened his mouth, much of his teeth were broken or missing altogether.

"Red," Vincent nodded, then stood to his full height as the pain left him. His eyes were wide beneath his bangs. A thrill of excitement ran through Iris, and she found her eyes wandering to a tattoo of the numerals 'XIII' on the cat's shoulder. Could it really be—Red XIII was alive? Vincent closed the gap between them, lowering the cowl to his cloak, revealing a closed-lipped smile. Iris felt as though she had just witnessed a blue moon or someone walking on water.

"Look at you," Red XIII marveled. "Still the same. Only some fresh scars to mark the passage of time. But at least you're smiling now."

"You seem to be doing all right yourself," Vincent replied, folding his arms.

Red tilted his grizzled head and winked at Iris. "Come now. You're not one for flattery. I'm as old and gray as a pile of dried mog dung."

Vincent had no remark for that. Iris, however, snorted and raised a hand to her mouth. Red XIII's eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on her, then approached her with his slow, limping gait.

"My vision may be going, but I know that yellow mass of hair from anywhere," he said. "You are Iris Strife."

Humbled that a hero of the past had acknowledged her, she bowed and said, "Red XIII. Nanaki. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Call me Red," he insisted, then sniffed her hand holding the scroll. "Now, this thing is older than I am. Far older."

"It is the reason we're here," Vincent said. "Heaven's Ultimatum. Do you know of it?"

"Hmmm. The name sounds somewhat familiar," Red answered. His gray tail, lit with a lemon-sized yellow flame on the tip, swished once. "Let's go into my grandpa's old study. Perhaps we will find some useful information there. In return," he paused, giving Vincent a long look, "I expect you to fill me in on what's going on."

Vincent only nodded once. The old, battle-scarred hero limped towards the bolted door. Iris rushed forward to help him open it, but Red merely raised a paw and pressed it to a panel where the doorknob should have been. The device pinged and the door swished open.

"Solar panels," he chimed. "Did you think we were primitives?"

Iris grinned as they followed him into a cramped room full of old, dusty machinery. In the very center was a rail-lined platform with a large control podium. Iris had a vague memory of this place from one of her father's many stories, but she only knew that once, her ancestors, Cloud and Tifa, as well as the others, had gathered in this room.

Red avoided the platform and padded over to a worktable, where stacks of books and papers were piled nearly to the ceiling. Red sat in front of it and Iris joined him on an old floor mat.

"Go ahead and show me," Red instructed. "You'll have to hold it close, I'm afraid."

She unrolled the scroll and held it in front of his face. He was silent for a long, long time, until he blinked and looked away.

"Can you read it?" she asked hopefully.

"I cannot," he said. She took a deep breath to mask her frustration. He continued, "But, I know it's Cetran, and my grandpa had some of their writings stored here behind me. He had a key with some words deciphered. With time, and help from some of the human scholars here, perhaps I could translate some of it."

"We already know part of what it says," she told him earnestly. "We just need to know the rest, and then maybe we stand a chance of stopping the Cetra."

"Tell me what you already-" Red's voice tapered off. He shut his eyes and lowered his head, his breathing slowing down. Had the old cat fallen asleep?

"Red?" Iris spoke up. "Everything ok?"

"Something's coming," Red muttered. "Something powerful."

"What? What's coming?" She got to her feet. She and Vincent turned to the sound of running footsteps, and a young man dressed in green robes appeared in the doorway.

"Chief Nanaki! The Canyon is under attack."

Red XIII snapped out of his trance and, in a surprising shift in energy, bounded for the door and slipped out of the house, the man running to keep up. Iris and Vincent pursued them, and when they emerged from the house, they found Red and the man peering over a balcony on an outcropping of rock behind the observatory.

Iris followed their gaze and swore under her breath. Three shining, luminescent craft were shooting across the desert, moving like liquid silver. Smaller, neon purple and blood red lights swarmed out of the craft, forming a protective cloud.

"Cetra…" Vincent muttered. Somewhere below them, a gong crashed and people were shouting. By the cosmo candle, Nanaki's clan gathered, until Iris counted eighteen cats pacing around the great flame.

Red XIII leaned over the ledge and roared. He called down, "My sons and daughters! Once again, the Canyon has fallen under siege. Protect your birthright. Protect our home. Go!"

The cats roared in unison, a fearsome battle cry, then took off in groups of three and four. Red XIII turned to Iris and Vincent. The fierce yet sorrowful look in his eyes sent a chill down Iris's back. What did he know that she didn't?

"Brace yourselves," he growled. "They're going to try and destroy us."


	29. The Cetra's Warning

FFVII: Heaven's Ultimatum

Chapter 29: The Cetra's Warning

As news of the incoming attack spread like wildfire, Cosmo Canyon transformed into a hive of activity. Groups of women and children rushed to the top of the village, crowding around the observatory. A few strayed to the edge of the cliffs, where Iris, Vincent, and Red stood, but for the most part they crouched low to the ground, murmuring or praying in small circles. They hushed their crying infants as their children, sensing their mothers' dismay, huddled quietly and dared not play. Iris watched the men running along the tiers and bridges below, grabbing spears, strapping on body armor, yelling commands, trying to establish some order in the chaos.

"Don't be scared." She overheard a man consoling his young son, cradling the boy delicately in his arms. "Chief Nanaki's kin will protect the Canyon. And I will protect you. Nothing can harm us here, not even Meteor. Remember that."

The man left the boy with his mother and hefted his spear, joining the rest of the soldiers on the ground floor. The air around the Canyon shook with subtle electricity. The first few lines of dawn broke over the horizon, but Iris couldn't see them. The Cetran aircraft, barely larger than her thumb in the distance, had disappeared inside a wall of dust the size of a small city. The desert storm swallowed the sun's rays, the entire Canyon and wasteland, every surface, now awash in bloody light.

She wondered, _Is the storm the Cetra's doing, or...  
><em>

Ribbons of lightning flashed inside the storm, the harbingers of the Cetra's wake. They waited, and waited, but the warriors never appeared beyond the Canyon's borders. Then, she spotted a group of them, far below, prowling along the cliffs that cradled the Canyon. They were so small and insignificant from her height. The Cetra would disintegrate them into piles of ash, and then they, too, would forever drift among the dunes, with only that sorrowful howling as their death dirge. Red XIII was beside her, his black jaws parted, his tongue panting. She couldn't read the cat's body language, but she suspected he had a furious battle lust inside, waiting to emerge.

That wasn't what she wanted from the wise, old leader. They should have been running by now, or digging deep underground.

"They won't beat them," she pleaded to Red, trying not to let her voice carry to the nearby villagers. "You have to call them back."

"Iris," Vincent said severely. She refused to look away from Red.

"Call them back," she repeated. "We've seen what the Cetra can do. They don't' stand a chance!"

Vincent shifted uncomfortably, but Red sat still, watching his warriors close in on the storm.

"Red, listen to me!" she hissed. "They attacked us way out at sea and we barely escaped with our lives. Those aircraft are capable of blowing up entire ships. Imagine what they'll do to this village!"

A few of the villagers behind her fell silent, casting worried glances in her direction. Red growled, his ears pressed against his head. The old, graying cat flexed his shoulders and extended his long, curved claws, glaring at her with predatory eyes.

He snarled, "You think my warriors aren't capable of defending our home? You think we will just lie down and die?"

Iris drew back, thinking perhaps that the beast had a touch of dementia. Vincent stood protectively next to her, but his gun remained by his side. Would he really aim it at an old friend, with someone whom he shared so much history?

"It's not that I doubt their strength, or their spirit," she said. "You can't even HIT these things, not without magic. They're relentless…you're drained of your energy by the time you get to their ship. And by then it's too late!"

Red's yellowed fangs flashed. He took a few steps towards her, but she stood her ground. "You're saying we should run away?"

"I'm saying we shouldn't fight them." She wished she had some that conviction in her voice, but instead, she felt only hopelessness. "At least not until we've figured out a better way to attack them."

"Hmmm." Red's body relaxed. He sat his rump on the ground and flicked his tail. "Good answer. Exactly what I wanted to hear."

"Really." Vincent sighed, swiping his cape aside and holstering his gun. Red bowed his head.

"I am sorry for growling at you. But I needed to be sure." He smirked. "You know, I once had to pretend to frighten someone else, to distract a mad scientist from the ambushers creeping up on him…"

Iris's jaw dropped. How could he play mind games at a time like this? "Be sure of what?"

Had Vincent been telling him things? She had an attitude, and wasn't exactly polite, but hadn't her ancestor Cloud been somewhat of a hothead? She turned angrily to Vincent. "What have you said to him while you were here?"

"I told him nothing!" Vincent said, opening his arms and gesturing to his wounds. "In case you didn't realize, I've been recovering until this evening."

"I needed to make sure you weren't some foolhardy hothead looking for glory," Red told her, before she could accuse Vincent of lying. "You held an old parchment up for a chief's tired eyes. You traveled across this punishing desert, and never once thought of harming my kin. Despite losing your mother, and your uncle, and being banished from your village, and, if I'm not mistaken," his cloudy eyes gazed intently into her Mako-green ones, "you have even come back from death itself. I have seen into your heart, Iris. Now, it is time to put a stop to this."

He lurched forward, as if he would pounce on her. Vincent drew his gun, but Red merely got to his feet and scampered like an escaped animal towards the stairs, nearly knocking over a group of people. Iris was too speechless to say anything.

"Red! Come back!" Vincent called, but it was no use.

Iris palmed her forehead. "Ugh! Has he lost his mind?"

Vincent shrugged. "It's possible. He's very old."

"So are you."

"…"

As the red light of dawn intensified, they scrambled down the stairs, into a tunnel which expanded into a large cave. Along the innermost wall, Red paced by a great iron door, which had three large bars spanning its width. Paper and ink seals, written in human characters on white strips of paper, had been pasted all over the door. Iris recognized them as superstitious spells meant to trap evil spirits.

"Red?" she called. The cat paced back and forth, his back leg limping. If he had heard her, he made no sign to show it.

"Red, my friend," Vincent said. "What are you planning?"

"Yo!"

Ten rushed into the cave, followed by Amon, Kai, and Shou. Ten waved and said, "We got problems, people! What should we do?"

He stopped moving when he spotted Red XIII, as did the others. They were armed with their original weapons and materia, and now Shou wielded a wooden staff, not for magic, but for striking. He had also switched clothes to a more dated martial arts uniform, the cloth belt around his waist completing the look.

"No way!" the boy exclaimed, leaning against his staff. "He's still alive?"

"Bloody hell. He's gray," Kai murmured. "And old, but that's him all right."

"We ain't got time for reminiscing," Ten said. "Those Cetra are just about on top of us. What's he doing?"

Iris glanced back worriedly at Red. He would sit down in the middle of pacing, stay perfectly still, then drag himself to his feet and start the whole process over.

"I don't know what he's doing," she confessed. "But we have to recall those warriors."

"We saw a whole troop of them headed through the canyon pass towards the storm," Kai said.

"Damn," Ten spat. "Couple hundred years ago Red's was an endangered species. Now it looks like we're all 'bout to go extinct."

"Not if we can help it," Iris said staunchly. But as she looked at the dark circles under all their eyes, their scorched, sunburned faces, and their rumpled, filthy clothes, she knew they were in no condition for a battle. The others knew this as well, for none of them made a suggestion. Then the floor beneath them started to tremble, and rocks the size of golf balls rained on them from the ceiling.

"Let's get outta here, before the whole damned thing collapses on us," Ten said, and they all ran out of the cave. Iris glanced over her shoulder at Red, who was sitting in front of the giant door. Then, as if sensing her presence at last, he craned his scarred face back at her. She turned away and kept running.

* * *

><p>They followed the human warriors down the stairs, past the entrance and the Cosmo Candle. The men wouldn't go with them after that, saying their duty was to protect the women and children. They told them to follow the pass, but go with caution, for it was full of loose boulders and treacherous to outsiders. They descended the winding stone stairs into the canyon pass, cutting off whatever light there had been from the red sun. Vincent, wielding a torch, pointed out paw prints in the sand, and they followed the set of prints into a crevice cut into the canyon wall. Carved stairs led them to an outlook, high above the canyon floor, where one of the warrior cats sat by a large pile of boxes.<p>

"Quick! Tell your people to turn around!" Iris said, breathless. The cat said nothing. He got to his feet, threw back his head, and howled. The shrill cry traveled down the canyon. Another howl, closer to the storm, answered him.

"Look!" Shou pointed farther down the canyon.

Iris squinted and spotted the tail-flames of three other warriors, stationed around another outlook. Near the end of the canyon, where the rocks opened up and the wasteland began, the storm clouds swelled, dangerously close to the entrance. The only way Iris could see it was due to the lightning, which flashed every few seconds. A strong wind whipped her hair back, throwing stinging dust into her eyes.

A tremendous blast rocked the ground beneath their feet. The others shouted in surprise as several more explosions rocked the earth, raining more pebbles on their heads. Somewhere farther down the canyon, Iris heard the crashing and scraping of rockslides. When the dust cleared, a wall of rubble and boulders had effectively sealed the canyon off.

About a dozen or so of Red XIII's warriors streaked back towards Cosmo Canyon. The warrior in front of Iris lit the wooden boxes with the flame on his tail. Only then did she realize what was painted on their sides, in large black lettering—TNT.

"Leave," the cat growled. "Now."

"Aw shit," Ten said. "Come on, back the way we came! We gotta get outta here!"

They bolted back down the stairs, joining the stampede of cat warriors as the one above them ignited the rest of the boxes and jumped, falling several hundred feet, before landing with all the grace of an alley cat leaping down a fence. Iris didn't have time to appreciate the aesthetics. In another second, the explosion boomed, nearly rupturing her eardrums.

"Will this really hold 'em off?" Amon huffed as they bolted back to Cosmo Canyon.

"Not for long," Vincent muttered. They ascended the stairs back up into Cosmo Canyon, three cat warriors darting past them, making for the tunnel that lead up to the observatory. Iris never made it that far, however.

She stopped to catch her breath, and, out of the corner of her eye, the Cetra's dust cloud loomed, closer than ever. It occurred to her that while the Cetra would be stalled, the dust storm was still going to hit them. The wall of thick, red air was crashing on them like poisonous gas flooding a rat nest. It ate the sky, the earth, and the light. There was no stopping that force of Mother Nature.

"Come on Iris!" Shou cried, pulling her arm. She followed him around the Cosmo candle, past three cat warriors positioned around the fire at three points. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as her heart began to pound in her ears.

_They're protecting the candle_, she thought. _It's linked to their life energy._

She followed Shou into the tunnel, taking the winding stairways up and around, out and through. As she passed the cave with the door, the dark-furred leader from the desert was muzzle-to-muzzle with Red, deep in conversation.

Once they emerged at the top of the canyon, the dust storm loomed before them. Great, billowing, rust-colored clouds rolled across the canyon. The women and children covered themselves with blankets, lying flat on the ground. The first clouds of the storm hit, throwing dust in their eyes. Iris clamped her hand over her mouth and fell to her knees, struggling not to cough, afraid that doing so would bring more dust into her lungs.

With her eyes shut (she couldn't open them, even if she wanted to), she heard nothing but the soft _shhhhhh_ of the dust blowing around. The villagers didn't make a sound, and she inwardly commended them for their bravery. She listened for signs of the Cetra, but it was nearly impossible to hear over the swirling of the storm. Gradually, she became aware of a faint ringing noise above them, growing louder by the second.

"Do you hear that?" Amon murmured next to her. "It sounds metallic, or like crystal."

"It's them," Vincent said. "Keep quiet."

"If only I had some Aero materia, we could clear this infernal dust," Kai growled. They remained huddled to the ground, unable to defend themselves, for fifteen minutes. Then, the dust and wind let up, and Iris found that she could breathe easy again. She got to her feet, and when she looked up, the sight of three immense Cetran ships made her blood freeze. The women and children did scream this time as hundreds of the smaller attack drones swarmed the air, forming a moving, silver cloud of flashing crystal and multicolored lights.

At first the drones took shots at structures, blowing up one of the observatory towers. Others took out the bridges and the huts. Then, a low-flying drone fired its energy beam into the crowd. Vincent was over to them in a flourish, his cape coiling in a circle as his Reflect materia rebounded the energy beam. The drone flipped out of the way of its own projectile, then exploded into shards as Vincent's Ice spell slammed into it. Iris kept more drones off his back as he struggled to defend the villagers, and Amon, Ten, Kai, and Shou formed a protective ring around her.

They held off the first of the drones with their magic, but they were far too outnumbered. More of them poured from the mother-ships every second. The drones grew more confident and began to attack in groups of three and four, taking shots at vulnerable people. The male warriors could do nothing with their spears, and they threw themselves over the women and children instead.

"Keep them at bay!" Vincent shouted. He cleared a path with a Fire spell and shouted for the women and children to follow him, back down into the caves. "Follow me!"

But as he turned to lead them to safety, the dark cat barred his path.

"No," the cat growled. "Do not go back into the caves."

"Move!" Vincent ordered. "I'm not letting these people die."

The cat bared his fangs. Vincent aimed his gun at him.

"Vincent, what are you doing?" Iris shouted. She ran over and got between him and the cat, just as a great wave of energy rushed over them, nearly bowling her over. At first she thought it was the Cetra, but out of the depths of the canyon, great hordes of hooded, spectral beings flew through the air. They raised their spears and slammed into the Cetra. Everything they touched turned to ash, disintegrating both specter and Cetra. The sudden release of spiritual energy made pebbles float and Iris's hair stand up, as if she were swimming underwater. The villagers' clothes flapped in the wind and they held on to each other as gravity dissipated, making some of them levitate.

"It's the Gi!" a woman shrieked. "Someone has opened the crypt!"

"Wait, those are…ghosts?" Iris asked the cat warrior.

"Chief Nanaki released them from their prison," he answered.

The spirits of the Gi tribe eliminated the drones, one by one, until only the three ships remained. The remaining spirits started to attack the ships, but they had turned around and begun to retreat, setting off a great cheer from the villagers.

"We're safe," Iris breathed. "For now."

The others smiled with relief. Daylight shimmered over the horizon. The Gi turned their dark, hooded faces toward the sun, their cloaks billowing in the ghostly wind. They hovered high above the canyon, and grew faint, until they were practically transparent. Then the last rays of dawn illuminated the desert, and they vanished into thin air.

"I thought the Gi hated your people?" Iris asked. "Or at least, that's what I remember from the story."

The cat warrior said, "Nanaki made a deal with them. If they would rid the Canyon of this scourge, they were free to move on to the afterlife. Their souls have haunted the corridors of that old vault for far too long."

"Saved by ghosts," Shou laughed. "Who'd have thought?"

Iris sighed. "So that's what Red was doing by the door…and to think I doubted him."

The warrior ho-hummed at this and trotted away. She and the others joined the villagers in their cheering, all save one member of their party. Vincent folded his arms and walked to the edge of the cliff, peering into a dark section of the canyon. Before Iris could tell him to stop brooding and celebrate, a beam of light blew Vincent off his feet. The villagers cried out and covered their eyes against the glare, which was brighter than anything Iris had ever seen.

A creature, not much larger than a man, flew directly above them, hovering in the air. No one dared to speak, and Iris and the others braced themselves for battle. The creature was surrounded by a prism of blue energy, its thin, genderless body burning so brightly it was painful to look at. Iris thought of cold, alien starlight. The things hair billowed around it in a metallic cloud. Iris flicked her eyes to its face—slit, dark eyes, high cheekbones, no mouth—before it stung too much and she was forced to look away.

Vincent regained his footing and raised his gun, taking aim. Red XIII bounded up the canyon steps, streaked past them and roared. A red, filmy shield covered them in a protective bubble. Iris didn't think it would do much if the creature decided to attack—its body alone looked hot enough to melt through metal.

"I am the keeper of this canyon, responsible for the lives of the people you see before you," he called out to it. "We have won this battle! Now what do you want of us?"

A cold, harsh voice filled the air:

_I WILL SPARE YOUR LIVES AND LEAVE THIS CANYON, FOR NOW._

The voice rang inside her head, and everyone else's. She clutched at her ears but it was no use, there was no protection from the Cetra's telepathic message.

_BUT KNOW THIS—THE END APPROACHES. HUMANKIND WILL RESUME ITS PROPER PLACE AND YIELD TO THE PLANET'S RIGHTFUL HEIRS . _

_YOUR RACE HAS FAILED THIS WORLD. THE LIFESTREAM SPARED YOU FROM METEOR, AND YOU REPAY THAT DEBT WITH MORE POLLUTION, WARS, AND WASTE. _

_NO MORE. ACCEPT YOUR ENSLAVEMENT, OR DIE._

"Tell me, why do you seek to destroy, to enslave?" Red XIII asked it. "Violence and cruelty are not your nature."

But the Cetra was finished talking. The message delivered, its light flared once, before launching across the desert and traversing the horizon, fast as a missile.

Red XIII lowered his shield and collapsed into a heap of dusty gray fur and bones. His tail fire had diminished to the size of a tea-candle flame.

"Father!"

The dark-furred cat ran to Red's side, nuzzling him, trying to push him onto his feet. Red panted heavily and would not move.

"It's all right, Helio. I just need…rest…"

"Here!" Shou ran over, bathing the cat in turquoise magic. The Cure spell washed over Red, but the old cat was still too tired to stand. Iris wiped away hot tears from her eyes and stood back as more cat warriors, as well as human Cosmo Canyonites, gathered around their leader, murmuring soft prayers. The humans were forbidden to carry him, and so they left him on the roof of the canyon, surrounded by his kin, as well as Iris and her companions.

Red called her over, and the cats made a small space for her to kneel in front of him. The great warrior's chest rose and fell slowly, but steadily. He would live, though she sensed he was in great pain.

"Why didn't the Cetra kill us?" she asked, her throat tightening. She wished she could do something to help, but she was no healer. Not like her mother, or Aeris, or even Shou.

"They want...slaves," Red said weakly. "You must hurry now. The days are numbered…until they take over the planet. Zenith…has done something to anger them…"

Iris clenched her fists. "It's the summons materia they're angry about! Zenith is going to use it to blow up the Cetra in the north."

"Yes…they're in Rocket Town. That is the center of their military operations. Their leader is...a man named Cuthbert. You…must stop them. I will…finish translating the scroll…while you're gone."

"All right." She stood up and bowed, as if to her old sensei and uncle. "Nanaki. I won't fail you."

Ten stepped forward, raising his dagger in the air. "As Barrett Wallace's descendant, I promise to protect her and help her finish her mission."

"As do I!" Amon said, lifting his metallic fist in the air.

"Me too!" Shou nodded.

"Me three," said Kai. They all turned to Vincent, who had drawn his cloak around himself and was sitting down, his head bowed.

Red said, "And…you? Old…friend…"

"Just like old times," Vincent grunted. "My place is next to the hero."

Iris's face flushed red. "I'm no hero, really."

"Hmmm…perhaps…that remains to be seen." Red coughed, and raised his head, communicating something silently with the dark-furred cat. "Take…my son Helio with you…to help you on your journey."

The cat named Helio bowed his head. Iris looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Now she saw the resemblance—the jaw structure, the shoulder muscles, the eyes shape and stare. But Helio had black cheetah-spots all over his body, and his mane of black hair tumbled down his shoulders and chest. He was far more muscular than his father, and sleeker. His tail flame crackled heartily with energy.

"I will go with them on their quest, in the name of Cosmo Canyon," Helio said.

"Good." Red's jowls curved up into a fanged smile, and he winked. "Take what you need...to prepare. Then...as Cloud would have said...mosey out."

* * *

><p>(AN: Whew! It got a little _Lord of the Rings_ there at the end, especially with the ghost army...but more questions need to be answered, as well as a certain evil corporation and corrupt president that need to be stopped. What will the scroll reveal? Who is the hooded lady? What is the significance of the silver materia? Why was Sephiroth brought back? Who for the love of the gods is Amon's ancestor? And will Iris live up to the prophecy, or does fate have more in store for her than a simple destiny?

More to come, hopefully soon. Your reviews are always so encouraging, so I thank you, especially the regulars, who have been with me and Iris from the beginning! ) 


	30. Interlude, Fireside Talks

Chapter 30: Interlude, Fireside Talks

They agreed to take a day of rest before setting out for Rocket Town in the morning. Ayana trudged up the steps to the observatory level to escort the heroes through the residential tunnels, but had difficulty reaching them through the hordes of people surrounding Iris and the others. While the Gi had done most of the work fighting off the Cetra, the villagers were more than infatuated with them for protecting them while Nanaki summoned the spirits. Even halfway up the steps, Ayana could hear their comments.

"…the pink ribbon, has Aeris come back to us?"

"…Vincent Valentine, they say he disappeared and abandoned his friends…"

"…a man with a metal arm, just like Barrett!"

"No, that other man is Barrett's grandson!"

"…but who's that monkey boy with them?"

"…the lass resembles the dreaded pirate Kai, but she's only rumored to be a legend…"

"Off with you!" Ayana barked, shooing them away with a broom. "Come on, let them through! They need to rest."

She warded off the rest of the onlookers and led them through a series of tunnels and caves, to a spa lit with warm orange lamps.

"We really should just get our supplies and sleep," Iris told her, a bit uncomfortable with their newfound hero-status. "We don't want to burden you, your village has enough to worry about now. Couldn't you just give us a few elixirs?"

"Oh, please," Ayana said, waving a hand. "The least we can do for you is treat you to some of Cosmo Canyon's famous cleansing and rejuvenation techniques."

Amon stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles. "All right, I could get used to this."

The receptionist at the desk, an old nurse with long gray hair, bowed deeply to them and had the men split up from the women. Once Vincent realized what kind of place it was, he shook his head and backed out.

"Think I'll go see if they have a smithy," he muttered, holding up his dented armor. He stalked off before anyone could stop him.

"Suit yourself," Amon shrugged.

"That thing steam proof?" Ten asked, pointing to his arm.

"You should know, you helped me steal the parts to fix it," he smirked. Ten elbowed him in the gut as Shou's ears pricked and the boy looked at them expectantly. They undressed in separate rooms and were given fluffy white towels. They sat around hot coals, sweating, nursing their wounds, while hostesses served them cold, rejuvenating juice. They were treated to massages with hot stones and oils. Iris and Kai went off to a private cave, to have their hair washed with wildflower-scented shampoos. The chairs were carved smooth, with expert craftsmanship, and blended seamlessly into a stone sink.

"Hey Iris, can I ask you something?" Kai spoke up, sighing as a woman combed slowly through her long, brown hair. Another hostess scrubbed her feet with a brush.

"I guess…" Iris winced as the woman behind her raked a comb through a tough knot in her mass of blonde hair. The woman scrubbing her feet stifled a laugh.

"You and Amon…do you guys have a thing?"

"A what?" She sat up, but the hostess behind her coaxed her back into her chair. "N-no. I mean, we used to, but we broke it off."

"Oh. That's good." Kai smiled, shutting her eyes. "Probably for the best…"

"Yeah…I guess."

"I wonder if they're finished repairing the Chameleon. As soon as we stop Zenith, I want to head back south and take to the sea again."

Iris wondered how she could be making plans so far into the future. Right now, her only plan was to not die on the way to Rocket Town. They had to pass through the Nibelheim mountains, by no means a friendly place. And why was she letting such petty things get to her at a time like this?

"Hey Kai," Iris started, biting her lip. "If you wanna…you know, you and Amon, I don't care. He and I agreed a long time ago that we're better off friends."

"Well, I'm not even sure if he likes me, honestly," Kai grumbled. "He never makes a move."

"You have to be persistent with him," Iris said. Gods, was she really saying this right now? Giving out courting advice with the end of the world so close. "He can be real thick sometimes."

Kai snorted. The women continued to comb their hair, rubbing in oils, remaining silent. Iris suddenly wasn't ok with the quiet, and she had the hostess finish up quickly and headed back to the changing rooms. By the time the hostesses were finished with them, their bodies gleamed and their hair shined, as if painted by an artist. But perhaps the best part of the experience was what awaited them back in the changing rooms.

Iris found a new set of clothes and partial armor waiting for her, along with a Diamond Knuckle glove. Her materia had been polished and lined up in a row for her. She set the glove in her lap, admiring the four materia slots along the wrist bangle. She slipped the glove on (it fit like liquid silk) popped her materia in the glove, one by one, Ice, Fire, Lightning, and…

_Where was it?_

She searched hastily for her old, soiled clothes, but they were nowhere to be found. She ran out of the room, practically losing her towel as she found one of the hostesses in the hallway.

"Where did you put my old clothes?" Her voice stung with accusation despite herself. The hostess, somewhat taken aback, smiled and said,

"Oh dear. They've been sent to our recycling department…"

"Did you find any materia in the pockets?"

The woman thought for a moment, then nodded. "Now that you mention it, that Vincent fellow of yours came back while you were in the spa and asked to look through your old things before we took them away."

Iris blinked. "He what?"

"I…he is your friend, isn't he? I didn't see a problem with it, I'm sorry." The woman bowed deeply in contrition, her face red. "It was very unprofessional of me, I don't know why…he just looked at me those eyes of his."

Iris sighed. He probably hadn't even tried to seduce her, it wasn't his nature, but still.

"Never mind that. I'll just go have a word with him." She ran back into the changing rooms, throwing on her armor. She pulled on a black bodysuit that zipped up the torso, with built-in shoulder, elbow, and knee pads made of leather. There were also metal pads fitted for her knees, elbows, and shoulders. She strapped on a pair of black boots with a silver toe, as well as a utility belt, a short, cropped red leather jacket with quartered sleeves, and a type of loose-fitting, metal-lined corset with three adjustable straps on the belly, meant to stabilize her waist. She flipped the clasps on the corset, cinching it, and left for the observatory level.

She found Vincent in the study, poring over a book, the silver materia sitting off to the side. He was still ragged looking, and she suspected he was avoiding the healers and their spa-treatments. She crept in as silently as she could, but he turned to face her the moment she set her foot down.

"You should know by now that I'm the sneaky one," he said, placing his gloved hand over the materia. "I hope you don't mind. I was just doing some research."

"You know, you could have asked me first," Iris huffed, folding her arms. "Now I'd like to have that back, if you don't mind."

He eyed her curiously, placing her under his microscopic stare. "Why is it so important to you, if I may ask?"

She shrugged, about to give him a sarcastic answer, then really thought about it. She had been clutching it when she emerged from the Lifestream. Perhaps it contained a piece of her mother's soul, and that was why she felt so attached.

"It reminds me…of her. Like it came from the afterlife." She shook her head, flushing. "So stupid. Like there's an afterlife…"

"How come you're so sure there isn't?"

"I'm not," Iris snapped. "It's just that I don't care. What happens on this planet is what matters, not some fancy spiritual world where everything's perfect and you get to rest forever."

"We know from the Gi that the spiritual realm is far from perfect," Vincent said cryptically, shutting the book with a puff of dust. He tossed the materia to her, and she dutifully equipped it to her glove, admiring the way it shimmered like the diamonds in her knuckles.

"In fact, one might argue that unless a person has died at peace, the afterlife is just a cage for their torment. A cage they seek to flee through any means possible."

"So what are you saying?" she asked. "That this materia summons spirits?"

"That materia…" Vincent muttered, stroking his chin. "I am not sure of its purpose. It won't activate for me, no matter how intensely I focus my magic. But as long as it's not hurting anyone, there's no harm in carrying it. For now. But the time may come when we have to leave it behind."

"My mother wouldn't have given it to me if she didn't think it would help!" she shot back, before she could stop herself.

Vincent gave her a sympathetic stare. "That's as I thought. You want to believe your mother gave you the materia. Someone I loved…helped me in that way once, too. Do you remember your mother giving it to you?"

"Well, no. Not exactly." She stubbornly wiped a tear away before it could fall and turned her face away from him.

"Then we should be careful." Vincent went back to looking over his pile of books. Iris left him in the study, a bit befuddled, and joined her friends by the Cosmo Candle around mid-afternoon. Although the desert was hot, the candle only seemed to emit heat when one needed it. Kai and Amon were there, sharing a fresh jug of sweet wine and laughing. A few yards away, Shou was getting staff lessons from one of the men. She watched him pick the staff up with his monkey tail and twirl it expertly before striking at the ground.

"He certainly learns fast," she commented as she sat down across from them. She traced her fingers over her materia and did her best to show that she wasn't mad at them.

"I'm glad we found him," Amon said. Then, in a lower voice, "He never talks about himself though. Have you noticed?"

"I have." Iris sat back.

"Nice threads," Kai chimed, pointing to her new raiment. She had her usual pirate look—loose, large sleeves, a low-shoulder top, corset, striped pants with an emerald, silk sash around the waist and leather, knee-high boots (stitched like moccasins at the bottom, as was the local style). A native, beaded headband was wrapped around her forehead, and she had a new set of jade earrings. The scimitar by her side was polished, and she had a new short sword strapped to her waist.

"Thanks!" Iris held up her Diamond Knuckle, a fierce smile on her face. "I'm gonna do some real damage with this baby."

"Damn!" Amon laughed. He wore jeans, a sleeveless black shirt, and chunky black boots, but the Canyonites had also provided him with some shoulder armor for his good arm, a bracer for his good wrist, and his metallic arm gleamed considerably with fresh oil. He said, "Nice bling. You know, for peaceful hippies, these guys sure did have a lot of armor lying around. Makes you wonder."

Iris laughed to think of her deadly weapon as 'bling'. And she was grateful said 'hippies' had some fight in them, after all. She asked, "And what about Ten? Did they arm him with fresh daggers?"

As she took a sip of wine from a bone cup, Kai said, "He's off using the phone."

She nearly sprayed the sacred Cosmo Candle with wine and spit. "They have a PHONE?"

"Apparently just one, and they only use it for emergencies," Kai said.

"Yeah, like if they run out of 'shrooms," Amon muttered, and Kai chortled. Not but a minute later, Ten came back and sat down with them. He had exchanged his trench coat for a short leather jacket, the shoulders and elbows padded with metal, and his belt was lined with, Iris counted, two dozen wicked looking throwing knives. His materia was equipped to a belt strapped across his bare, tattooed chest, and it glimmered in the light of the Candle.

"Jes' got off the phone with the wife," he said.

"No way!" Amon breathed. "You got a hold of her, all the way in Corel?"

Ten nodded, then said darkly, "Yeah. She and the kids are ok. But the Cetra have completely taken over the Western continent, and now Costa del Sol and the Golden Saucer are the next targets."

"They're probably safe in the mountains, right?" Kai asked. "Good place to hide."

"For now." Ten rubbed his forehead. "I told her to take the kids and run, into the mines, if the Cetra attack. Corel's such a big place, and it's got strong stone walls and tunnels that go deep underground. Kind of a reaction to when Shinra burnt the place down. Everything's stone or metal there."

"Gene is one tough lady. If anyone can protect your kids, it's her," Iris told him, remembering the woman's no-bullshit attitude. Gene kept a tight leash on her family, but she knew what was best for them. Looking back on all the times she had caught her and Amon goofing off, or fighting with a rival biker gang, Iris was grateful to Gene for keeping them in line when she could (even if Iris wasn't allowed in her house). Ten grunted at this and sipped some wine, done with the subject. His family was a private, personal matter, and she knew better than to press him.

"Hey," Amon said, turning to Iris. "Maybe we could call Wutai and see if we can get a hold of our dads?"

A storm swirled in Iris's stomach. Part of her heart lifted at the thought of speaking with her father…until she realized they would have to talk about her uncle. And her mother…

"I don't think Wutai has phones," she said bluntly.

"That's ridiculous, of course they do!" Amon said, standing up. "Let's go right now. I need to make sure dad's ok."

"Iris is right," Ten said. "Ain't a single phone in Wutai."

"I don't believe it," Amon said. "There's got to be at least one."

Ten explained, "After Shinra was destroyed, they went back to the old ways. Really far back. Their new emperor placed a ban on all things modern and cut off contact with the outside world. Wutai's a backward place. I've been there a few times…" He coughed and gazed into the fire. "Strictly business purposes, o'course. Although there was this concubine named Jun who…er, sang the best songs to ease a man's troubles. And they have a whole academy for ninjutsu. The dojo stretches four or five stories high, in the shadow of the Da Chao mountain…"

He sighed with nostalgia and drank more wine. Vincent eventually joined them, and had apparently seen a seamstress about stitching up his old clothes and the village smithy had managed to get some of the dents out of his armor. They discussed tomorrow's travel plans and what to expect in the Nibelheim Mountains. Ayana brought them their dinner, and they retired to the Inn.

Iris stripped off her boots and jacket, but kept the glove on. She clutched it close to her chest in her sleep, and when she dreamed, it was of a great, winding road, leading up to a tall, jagged mountain that pierced the sky.

They rose early, and the villagers gave them some preserved food to take along for their journey, along with a tent and a few potions, in case they ran into trouble. Iris and Vincent said their farewells to Red XIII, who was resting in a bed of straw and cotton in the medical ward. Vincent got down on one knee and, in a rare display of affection, gave the old cat a brief hug around his neck.

"I'm only sad we did not get the chance to catch up," Red said. "You never told me where you were these last, oh, two-hundred years or so."

"Hmm. I will see you soon," Vincent promised, standing up, brushing off his cloak. "Send a message if you make any progress with the scroll."

"One of my warriors will find you if that happens." Red said to Iris, "I feel as though I'm looking at Cloud and Tifa both when I see at you. When I look into your eyes, I see the same fire that kept Cloud alive, even in the darkest of times."

Iris bowed. The old cat chieftain bowed his grizzled head back, his feather crown sagging slightly.

"He spoke to me in a dream last night, you know," Red added conversationally.

Iris swallowed a lump. "Really? Er, what did Cloud have to say?"

"He was keeping a close eye on you. Him and the others."

"Oh. Well, tell them I said…er, thank you, if you get the chance."

Red grinned and swished his tail. "Tell them yourself. You can talk to the Lifestream, whenever you want."

"I'll be sure to do that." Iris turned and muttered in Vincent's ear. "Let's go."

Vincent nodded once more to Red, then went with Iris to join the rest of their party. Shou was practically bubbling with energy, practicing his new fighting moves. One moment he was doing a handstand, the next, he was flipping head-over-tail doing cartwheels, until Ten told him to cut it out because it was making his head spin.

A group of villagers gathered to send them off. The seamstress, a young, tiny woman in a kimono, handed Vincent a chain of flowers, then ran away, giggling. A man tapped Iris on the shoulder, and handed her a small stone flute with feathers and flowers carved on the sides.

"I knew your father, Gale. Met him while he was here on his travels with his brother," the man told her. "You give that flute to him and tell him and Kaito that Luther says hey."

"I…I will," Iris said, clutching the flute tightly. "But I'm afraid that my uncle Kaito passed away recently."

The man named Luther bowed his head respectfully. "I'm sorry to hear that, young Strife." He patted her once on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. Iris put the flute in one of her jacket pockets and breathed out heavily.

"Where is our guide?" Kai asked, scanning the bridges and cave entrances. Helio emerged from a tunnel, padding swiftly over to them. The crowd gave him a wide berth, several villagers throwing flower petals in his wake.

"Good bye young prince!" A cat warrior roared. "May all roads take you back to the Canyon!"

Helio did not look back. Instead, he turned his fanged muzzle to their party, and said, "Let's go."


	31. Night Terrors at Mt Nibel

Chapter 31: Night Terrors at Mt. Nibel

With Helio to guide them, they moved with added haste through the rest of the desert. Once they arrived at the grassy plains that would soon turn into forest, Helio stopped in his tracks and turned around. He stared pensively back at the red wastes, the badlands he'd been scrambling over since his cub days.

"I've never been past this area," he said, and lifted his head to the mountains that began to rise to the north. "Once we reach the mountains, it's all uncharted land for me. My duty as your guide was short-lived."

"I know those mountains well," Vincent said. "There is a cave there that is special to me."

"What's in the cave?" Shou asked. But that was all Vincent had to say on the subject.

The farther they traveled north, the wilder the lands became, as well as the creatures they encountered. The beasts here had been driven to frenzy by some telepathic craze that connected all of them, made them nearly stupid with fury. Perhaps it was the Cetra's influence, or perhaps they hadn't seen humans in a very, very long time. They all had the opportunity to test their new armor, and during a particularly nasty battle with a pair of dragons, Iris and the others strengthened their bonds with their materia.

For five days, they hiked north, never seeing any sign of human beings. On the sixth day, however, as Mt. Nibel towered in the distance like a gray thorn, they happened across a band of traveling merchants with carts driven by chocobos.

"How's business?" Ten asked, pocketing some freshly bought bread.

A toothless old herbs woman peered at him from behind her potted plants and gave him a thumbs down. "Mog's luck in these parts. Had better prospects to the south, lots o' people fleeing from the West."

"And to the north?" he inquired.

"Bahh, that region's cursed," the thin, dark-skinned cart driver said, as they exchanged a few items. His enormous straw hat covered practically every aspect of his face, save for his gunpowder gray beard.

Iris asked, "What's so bad about the north?"

"S'where the old town of Nibelheim's at. Don't you kids know nothin'?" the man huffed. "They say the place is haunted. Especially that old mansion. You happen across a ghost town at the foot of Mt. Nibel, you turn tail and find another way. Y'hear?"

As the carts started to roll away, and as they strapped on their packs, the herbs woman cautioned, "Nobody's been through the mountain pass inna' hundred years. They say anyone who takes that path is either the bravest bloke in the world or downright suicidal. Be careful."

"Stay to the east of the mountains," said Ten, when the others had nothing to say. "It's not safe to go west anymore."

"Thank ye kindly," the old woman nodded. She paused thoughtfully for a second, considering the lot of them, and said, "You might make it, if you only stay one night."

"Thanks for the encouragement," Amon muttered, his mouth drawn into a flat line. Once the caravan was out of sight, they had another five hours of hiking or so before reaching Mt. Nibel. They spent one last night out in the open, building a generously big fire. Iris was burning with questions for Vincent, but he had made another one of his famous nightly getaways, and she knew better than to go looking for him.

The following morning, a chill fog had rolled in, making it impossible to see the mountains. Wandering through a sea of gray, they had to rely on their compass to be sure that they were even headed in the right direction. Moisture settled in on their clothes, adding unwelcome weight to their backs, and the grass they trod on was slippery with dew and spider webs.

Iris's first impression of Nibelheim was a watery assemblage of black buildings. As they drew closer to the town gates, she saw the tips of houses, most of them devoid of paint or otherwise blackened with decay. Vincent led them through the gates, into the town square.

_Is this really where Cloud and Tifa grew up? _Iris wondered. She couldn't picture them as children, playing in these streets. Not when things looked so forlorn and empty. _Is this where Sephiroth lost his mind and burned the town down, only to have it rebuilt in a massive cover up by Shinra?_

From what little Iris could see of the houses, they were either in a severe state of rot or completely destroyed. Cracks spread across old stucco, and the rooftops, stripped of shingles, exposed support beams poking through like fleshless ribs. The old water tower and well lay in a heap, the rusted blades of a windmill scattered around it. Iris didn't even know which house had been Cloud's, or Tifa's, home to a very treasured family piano.

No one spoke as Vincent led them past the ruins. They proceeded with the same respect of walking through a cemetery, or by a memorial to some great tragedy. Just behind the town, Iris spotted a high, brick wall wrapped around the largest building of the town. She supposed two-hundred years ago, the manor would have cut an impressive sight, rising above the humble homes of Nibelheim. But now, the mansion's many windows had gone black, and the siding was peeling away in large flakes. Pieces of the roof had caved in or crumbled onto the lawn. In truth, the entire building looked to be falling in on itself.

The front door, she realized, was open just a crack. As if inviting them. As if to say, "Come in, come in. There's nothing wrong on the inside, I promise." Vincent refused to acknowledge the place at first, then Iris saw him slowly turn around and stare at it. He stood at the gates for a long time, his arms held at his sides, head bowed in silent contemplation.

"Brings back memories," was all he said.

"Can we press on?" Kai asked, shivering. "This place gives me the creeps."

Vincent came out of his reverie and pointed to the path that wound between two mountains. "That's the way through. It only gets worse from here, so prepare yourselves."

Iris exchanged looks with the rest of the group. Shou was eyeing the mountains curiously, and Amon looked sick to his stomach. Vincent shuddered and drew his cloak shut, muttering, "I was really hoping to avoid this way…but it's the fastest route to Rocket Town. Let's go."

With a twirl of his red hem, he started walking towards the trail. They moved at a quick pace, until the trail became steep. The pointed tips of the mountains drew closer, until the trail leveled out before they could reach the top. The mountain pass cut into the ash-colored slopes of Mt. Nibel, winding its way up and around. Iris looked up at their destination, wondering how they were going to navigate through all the twists and turns. The path frequently skirted a precipice, covered by thick clouds, with large, sharp rocks jutting out. Her senses told her it was a long way down.

But Vincent was true to his word, and he knew the way. Were it not for him, they would have been completely lost. Helio also proved especially useful, relying on his sense of smell to help them avoid monsters. The mountains were home to giant insects, wolves, flying creatures, dragons, and more. They stopped mid-climb and made camp in a crag, close to the soothing green glow of a natural materia spring. It was the first thing of beauty Iris had seen in this desolate place, and she wanted to investigate. Vincent told them it would be best if they didn't do any exploring.

Iris reluctantly curled up in her sleeping bag with the rest of them. The air was cold and the hard, rocky ground hurt her back. Even though she was exhausted from her hike, it took a long time before she could fall asleep. Once she did, that was when the nightmares began.

_It called her to it and she went inside, she knew she shouldn't but she had to look. She knew what kind of depravity happened there, the rumors of torture, murder, rape, but she's curious and she always has to look when she's curious. She walks across the foyer, the grand staircase before her, milky white, stained glass windows rising above. Thoughts of the mansion's previous owners entered her mind. She tried to push the thoughts out but there were too many. This place belonged to rich men, men who liked to control people, hit their wives, lay with the servants in the (closet guest room and even the kitchen) women who poisoned their husbands and drowned their children and threw their pregnant bodies down the stairs when they couldn't take it anymore…_

_The shadows cast from the old furniture look like the hulking, giant forms of amorphous beasts. She ascends the stairs, the floorboards squealing, and heads right, into a sitting room, then through another door, into a bedroom. Eyes watch her from the shadows, from under things. There are bloody bodies under white sheets but she refuses to lift them to see who they belong to (that's not her business here her business is BENEATH she has to go DOWN, down, down into the darkness). _

_She approaches a round stone wall, not knowing how she knows it's the secret entrance, having never been there before…yet she knows, and she presses a switch. The wall crumbles to dust at her feet and she sets foot in the tower. She wanders down a long and spiraling staircase, the air heavy with the smell of mildew and mold. The moans of the tortured spirits haunting the halls call out to her, but she treads softly and pretends she cannot hear. She reaches the bottom of_ _the secret tower and enters a damp, stone tunnel._

_Her wandering brings her towards a room with green light. She doesn't want to see, doesn't want to look at the victims of the terrible experiments. She can smell blood and formaldehyde and other chemicals. They are crying out to her, pleading for help._

_I can't help you! she cries back. They are coming closer now. Their hollowed sockets gape at her, full of rage. Why did they do this to us? We are the forgotten ones…the ones that didn't make it. Aborted before the term could end. They clutch at her with skeletal fingers, the flesh peeling away to reveal smooth bone. She pushes them away but they pull her into them, into the green light, pressing her in, tighter, crushing her ribs, her bones splintering and puncturing her lungs, and in the madness of her suffocation, there before a bookshelf is a man in black, his face buried in a thick old book. She screams for him to help her, doesn't he see them killing her? But he never looks up._

_Something in the book is so enthralling, so horrific he can't even see the murder happening._

_Strangely enough, the last thing she hears before everything goes black is a child's voice calling in despair, "Mother? Are you there mother? I can't find you…"_

Iris awoke to Amon shaking her shoulder. It was still dark out, and the others were mostly asleep. Shou groaned and rolled over. Kai's arm was draped over her face, as if someone had just told a bad joke. Iris wiped sweat from her forehead and licked her lips, which had gone as dry as a kiln.

"Gods, what a fucking nightmare," she muttered.

"You were groaning and twisting around like someone was murdering you," Amon whispered. "Are you okay?"

She tried to answer him, but something burning her neck forced her to sit up. She had fallen asleep on her glove. She picked it up and laid a hand on it, then quickly drew it back, hissing. The silver materia was white-hot to the touch. Amon was rubbing his eyes and hadn't noticed. She set the glove asude carefully and lay down.

"Go back to sleep," she told him. "We've got a long day tomorrow."

Amon yawned, stretched, and in five minutes she had his snoring to listen to. As she drifted off into her own fitful slumber, she was unaware of a pair of red eyes watching her from beneath Vincent's cowl.

They all awoke before dawn, complaining of sore backs. Iris didn't mention her nightmares to anyone (more had followed but none had been as detailed as the Shinra Manor one). She rubbed her eyes more often than she would have liked, but she was used to rough going and tried not to let her exhaustion show. An hour after they set off, rain began to fall in freezing sheets.

"There will be landslides," Vincent warned. "Be careful."

It wasn't long before his prediction came true. A massive landslide, too steep and unstable to climb, blocked their progress. Vincent had them double back and head through a tunnel leading into the mountain. He picked up the pace and had them moving at almost a jog. They relied on flashlights to see, but every so often the tunnel opened up into a great, glowing materia chamber.

After a few hours of wandering in the tunnels, practically blind from squinting in the near-darkness, they spotted light up ahead. Helio lifted his nose to the air, sniffed, and raised his hackles, growling.

"There's something up ahead," he said.

"Should we fight it?" Amon asked. They heard scuffling, chattering, and scraping.

"Too many to fight," Helio said. "Double back. Run!"

They took off, as a swarm of insects with enormous frontal pincers and long tails tipped with stingers descended on the spot where they had stood. Iris shot Fire at them, but they divided their ranks and merged back together smoothly, moving like a school of fish, tumbling over one another in their furious frenzy to feed. Their skin was ivory-colored, and partially translucent, revealing soft, gray organs inside.

"Disgusting!" Kai wailed, ducking to avoid a chomping set of hungry mandibles.

"Shit! I hate bugs!" Ten yelled, punching as one snapped at him from the wall. Vincent led them down a different tunnel, up a steep embankment, then out into the open. They spun around, ready to fight, but the insects hated the sunlight and remained in the darkness. They had been wandering in the tunnels for so long, however, that Iris realized it was almost sunset. Her heart sank. They would have to spend one more night in this hopeless, haunted place.

At length they reached a long rope bridge, which swayed over an abyss. They crossed it carefully, one by one, just as the last rays of the sun were sinking down between the mountains. They climbed higher, until the trail widened and leveled out onto a giant platform. And, built into the side of the mountain, sat the old Mt. Nibel reactor. Vincent took a look around and shook his head.

"I was hoping to avoid this place, too," he said grimly. "But the sun is going down and we have no choice. We'll camp here."

Vincent allowed them to have a small fire, and that night they set up the tent. Helio lit the wood pile with his tail, which amused Shou, but when he asked the cat to wave his tail and write his name, the cat creature pretended he couldn't understand him. They cooked a small dinner before ducking into the tent for the night. This time, Iris wasn't the only one having trouble sleeping. Her friends all tossed and turned, and the moon had already reached its full height before their breath was heavy with sleep.

Iris, however, was quite awake, or so it appeared. She lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, the slot to her glove empty, the silver materia clutched tightly in her hand.

_This is where I sleep…forever…come and find me at my final resting place._

Her body jerked upwards, into a sitting position. She listened to her friends, but they were all fast asleep. Her fingers peeled the tent flap back, hesitating.

_Come._

She emerged carefully into the cold night, the embers of their cooking fire still glowing. Helio was curled up around the coals, his tail flame smoldering. Barefoot, she treaded carefully by him and headed for the metal ramp leading up into the mako reactor. She paused again, the materia clutched in her hand. She brought her fist up to her mouth, a crooked, unsure smile on her face. For a moment her head bobbed and she seemed to fall asleep on her feet, then her chin shot up and her body stiffened.

A few more steps and she closed the gap between the ramp and the reactor entrance. A long time ago, someone had tried to seal the entrance with metal welding, but the door had fallen in at an odd angle and she ducked under this easily. Now she balanced on a wide metal pipe, the heat from the planet's vents rising up in great whirls of steam. The floor was put together with strips of uneven handholds, like a horizontal ladder, and one misstep could mean tumbling over the side into the planet's core.

She walked across the pipe as easily as if she were crossing the street and entered the next room, which was full of empty metal pods with glass windows. She opened the door to one of the pods wide, sticking her upper body in, before slamming the door shut and skipping up the steps. She performed another balance-beam act up a slippery cable before she came to a halt at a broken, cylindrical tank full of old wires and piping.

_Kaasan._

_Mother._

She took a few ginger steps forward, her hands clutched timidly to her chest. Tiny bits of broken glass cut into her feet, but she didn't notice. She left a trail of bloody footprints to the base of the tank, where she held up the materia. Waited. Nothing happened.

Standing up, she slowly turned around and slid down the wire, back into the room with the holes in the earth. She grabbed a low-hanging chain and leaned forward, very far, her grip on the chain, her only lifeline to the ground. The heat from the vents curled the strands of hair at the nape of her neck. A soft green glow shined on her dreaming face.

_Come closer. _

Mom?

_He killed me here, oh yes. _

_Dying by the likes of him…but in death, I became something more._

She smiled a broad, joyous smile. Here was her mother, at last. All she had to do was give her a present, and then jump. Her hand outstretched, holding the materia with her fingertips. Before she could drop it, someone yelled her name.

"Iris, no!"

Amon tackled her to the floor. Her elbow struck metal, hard, drawing blood. She screamed and writhed, still clutching onto the materia. Her closed fist struck her assailent in the head and he fell over. She clambered onto his chest and struck him again. Again. This time she seized a sharp point of broken pipe and raised it high above his throat, a triumphant mask of evil on her face.

Helio roared, then his skull collided with her midsection. The breath crushed from her lungs, Iris let go of the materia and fell over, out cold. Amon coughed, spat a glob of blood over the side of the pipe, and used the chain to pull himself to his feet.

"Are you all right?" Helio asked.

"Never better." Amon rubbed his forehead. His right eye socket was swelling shut fast. He walked over and picked up the materia, but dropped it so fast it almost bounced off the side of the pipe.

"Shit! It's burning hot."

"Use something to pick it up," Helio suggested. Amon took out a bandana from his pocket and used the cloth to lift the materia. He could feel the wicked heat radiating from it, deep inside the folds. Carefully, so as to avoid exposing the materia, he wrapped it and put it in his pocket, before lifting Iris into his arms.

"I'm glad I woke up when you did," Helio said. "Otherwise, she would have likely killed you."

"Yeah. You'd be surprised how often that almost happens," Amon sighed. "Look, I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention I have the materia. Let's just say it fell into the pit. Got it?"

"Got it." Helio wasn't the type to ask too many questions. He padded in front of Amon, who carried Iris out of the reactor and back to the tent. She didn't wake up until morning, and when she clawed through her things, looking for the materia, Amon pulled her off to the side and explained what happened, how she had been sleepwalking, how she had attacked him and the materia fell over the side of the pipe.

She saw his black eye, and Helio told the same story, but it wasn't enough. She went back into the reactor and checked the pipe, the floor, the entrance. But it was really gone.

"Maybe it was meant to go back into the Lifestream," Vincent said, as they hiked out of the shadow of the reactor and into the daylight. Down the other side of Mt. Nibel, green, flat land stretched for miles. "Like we discussed back at Cosmo Canyon."

"I don't think so," Iris said glumly. She would miss its weight, its texture. "But there's nothing we can do about it now."

"Yeah," Amon said, clapping a hand on her shoulder, his eye swollen and turning different shades of purple. "Nothing to worry about, right?"

"Right."

He smiled at her, then joined the others on the trail. Iris lingered behind, giving the reactor one last once-over. Then she shook her head and followed them out of the mountains, glad to be away from that shadow-bastion of nightmares.


End file.
